


Iris

by the_ocean_burned



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: ? - Freeform, ?? - Freeform, Angst, Anxiety, Artist Nico di Angelo, Crying, Depression, Eating Disorders, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, Minor Character Death, Self-Harm, Social Anxiety, Therapy, borderline neglectful parents, idk what else to put i'll update as more comes up, like vaguely but i'm tagging it just in case, nothing outside of canon tho, there's lots of that in here, uhh, updates mondays!, very briefly tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ocean_burned/pseuds/the_ocean_burned
Summary: Apparently, the blond boy had misconstrued Nico’s interest as a desire for socialization rather than a desperate attempt to ignore anxiety, because the boy stood and moved to sit directly beside Nico. There were at least twenty empty seats in the room, and the blond boy chose the only seat that was directly adjacent to Nico’s.If Nico could have melted through the floor and disappeared, he would have.Updates Mondays!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this started like four years ago as a vent fic and uhh thirteen yo me was pretty fucked up so this is,,, very not light and fluffy so please be careful y'all. I'm trying to tone it down as much as I can without changing the story but that's not much alfsdjslakj

 

Gossip, Nico mused bitterly with his ear pressed to the closed kitchen door, was really one of his stepsister Hazel’s worst habits. Of course, he wasn’t all that much better, eavesdropping as he was. _I don’t like it when she gossips about_ me, Nico amended sourly. _Especially to Persephone._

Which was, of course, what Hazel was doing right then. “He isn’t eating,” she was saying, making Nico clench his jaw. “He’s been throwing his food away in his room; I found it in his trashcan last night. That’s why he’s been eating upstairs.”

Nico could hear Persephone, his stepmother, sigh. He could perfectly imagine the look on her face, lips pressed tightly together into a thin line, eyes tight at the corners. Disappointed, annoyed, but not surprised or worried. Nico was just a burden to her, just another obnoxious expense for her to deal with. She had always hated him, and she only liked Hazel as much as she did – which still wasn’t much, admittedly – because Hazel would go shopping for unnecessarily frilly, lacy dresses and other obnoxious, traditionally feminine things, even if Hazel despised them. That, and Hazel was straight. But then, neither Persephone nor Hazel was aware that Nico was that particular brand of _different._ If he had his way, they’d never find out, either. He was already alienated enough from his family and he didn’t need to at _that_ to the mess. Nico knew damn well that his father only kept him around because Nico was his son, not because of any sort of bond with or love for Nico. Of course, Nico couldn’t hold it against his father; Nico knew the reason Hades had been more distant lately than usual. He still blamed Nico for the accident. That was okay. Nico blamed himself, too.

“There’s nothing more we can do,” Persephone huffed to Hazel. This was a lie, but Nico would prefer that she leave him alone, anyway. He deserved this; he knew he did. _Why can’t they just let me suffer on my own? Sure, it’s unhealthy, but fuck them for sticking their noses where they don’t belong when I’m not looking,_ Nico hissed in his head.

“You have _not_ done everything you could!” Hazel protested. “Send him to therapy! Get him _help!”_

She sounded so indignant, so angry, on his behalf. For half a second, he was grateful for her. She was the only one who really cared anymore. Not even _he_ cared about himself enough to be angry for himself. But the burst of warm affection was gone as soon as it had appeared, a soap bubble popped by a curious child’s finger, swallowed by the black hole that had grown in Nico’s chest.

“That isn’t necessary,” Persephone replied stiffly. Nico had known that was coming, but it still hurt, that confirmation that Persephone didn’t care about him even enough to get him professional help. He tried to push it away, to drown it, but he knew it would just fester like everything else.

“Yes, it is,” Hazel hissed. “He’s in pain! He should be getting help! Christ alive, you need to help him!”

“This conversation is over,” Persephone snapped, cold and stiff and stern.

Nico retreated to his bedroom before Hazel or Persephone could catch him listening in. He curled up in his bed, pulling the blankets to his chin and closing his eyes. He was always so tired, these days. Bored, too, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. His friends wouldn’t talk to him anymore, his family hated him, and he had no online life. Hazel was the only one who tried to help him even a little, and he appreciated the effort, even if it was stifling and obnoxious at times. But he was still lonely, and it only made his chest hurt worse. For not the first time – and not the last, he was certain – he wished he had a boyfriend or, at the very least, a best friend. Or even a hug.

He had no idea how long he laid there, mind filled with static and self-hatred, before his bedroom door creaked open. There was a pause, then a gentle tap on his door.

“Nico?” Hazel’s voice asked softly. “Are you awake?”

For half a second, Nico considered pretending to be asleep. He could smell the food she’d brought in with her – toast and peanut butter. The scent made him feel sick, but he knew she’d make him eat if she stayed. It wouldn’t matter. The food would just come up again later, no matter how hard Nico tried to keep it down. But he just sighed and opened his eyes.

“I’m up,” Nico muttered, sitting up reluctantly.

Hazel smiled and closed the door. That wasn’t a good sign; she knew Nico didn’t like to be closed into rooms with other people, so she only ever closed his bedroom door when she intended to talk to him about something serious. Nico’s skin crawled. He curled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice painfully tentative. Nico hated the way she always felt the need to walk on eggshells around him. He was depressed, for fuck’s sakes, not fragile. There wasn’t a damn thing she could say to him that he hadn’t already thought about himself.

“I’m fine,” Nico replied by rote. Hazel arched an eyebrow, setting the plate of toast down on his dresser.

“I don’t believe that,” she said, though not unkindly. Nico just rolled his eyes.

“Don’t give me that,” reprimanded Hazel as she sat on the edge of the bed. “You and I both know you aren’t _fine.”_

It was true, but Nico didn’t want to admit it to her, so he just sighed and circled his arms around his knees. He was supposed to be the one taking care of her, and yet, here they were. She was only sixteen, and he was nearly an adult, and yet she was the one having to make sure he did something as simple as eat. Well, admittedly, he was only barely seventeen, but still. “What do you want, Hazel?”

“I need you to eat, first of all.”

It was surprisingly difficult for Nico to keep himself from rolling his eyes again. “I’m not hungry.”

Hazel’s eyebrows said she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t vocalize it, so Nico didn’t bother to respond. It wasn’t really worth the argument he knew it would inevitably cause. He had never liked arguing with anyone, but he especially despised fighting with Hazel.

“Fine, then,” she sighed, a sad expression flitting briefly over her face. Nico’s heart felt like it was being stuffed into a vice. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He had never meant to hurt her. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“You finally asked Frank out?” Nico asked dryly, raising one eyebrow teasingly. She rolled her eyes at him, pretending to be annoyed despite her obvious embarrassment.

“No,” she huffed. “And this isn’t about Frank at all. Look. I know it’s been hard for you since –”

“Don’t say it,” Nico snapped, cutting her off. _Don’t say her name. Please, don’t say her name. I can’t stand to hear it. I can’t even think it anymore._ “Just get to the point.”

Hazel looked taken aback, but then she just closed her eyes and sighed tiredly. “Fine You have an appointment with a therapist next Thursday.”

Nico’s blood went cold in his veins. “What?”

“Nico, I know –”

The world was spinning. Nico wasn’t sure what was real. Hazel’s voice was indistinct and muted, as if he was hearing it from the bottom of the deep end of a pool. For a heartbeat, Nico went entirely numb, and then rage burst through him.

“How did you even get an appointment in so fast?” he breathed, trying desperately to keep his anger internalized. He knew it was irrational, and he didn’t want to lash out at her just for trying to help. He didn’t even know _why_ he was angry, he just _was._

“Dad made a call,” Hazel replied uneasily.

And there went Nico’s ability to keep himself in check. “You went to _Dad_ with this?” he hissed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He welcomed the bite of his fingernails digging into his palms.

“Well, _Persephone_ wasn’t going to do anything!” Hazel shot back. “And Dad’s worry about you. We all are. Even Percy’s asked about you!”

Percy’s name felt like salt in a gaping, still-fresh wound. It was the last straw. “Did you ever think to ask me if I even _want_ therapy?” He snarled. In truth, Nico _did_ want therapy, and he had for a long time, but the fact that she hadn’t even talked to him about going to Hades before she did it had only made him angrier, and he couldn’t stop it now. He could only watch himself explode and hope the collateral damage wasn’t irreparable.

“I thought you’d say no!” she cried, her expression twisting desperately, as if pleasing with him to understand. “And you need it, Neeks.”

“Don’t you dare assume you know what I need,” he replied lowly. Hazel flinched. Nico wanted to cry.

For a few moments, Hazel just stared at him, her jaw clenching and unclenching, her eyes shining with the threat of tears. Quietly, Nico hoped she’d get angry and yell. It was always angrier to be mad when the other person was, too. But she just stood and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her a little more aggressively than was strictly necessary.

Angry tears pressed at the back of Nico’s eyes and he dug the heels into his hands into them, trying to keep himself from crying. He hadn’t _wanted_ to yell at Hazel. He hadn’t wanted to push her away. He had just been upset that she had gone to their dad to get him therapy without him even _knowing_ about it, much less being there to speak for himself, and then his temper had gotten the better of him and he’d yelled. It had been a while since Nico had hated himself so much.

The tears came despite his efforts to stop them, so he just buried his face in his knees and let them fall. Nico didn’t know how long he cried, but he didn’t leave his room even when they stopped, or when the redness faded from his eyes, or for the rest of the day. No one came to check on him. Nico buried his head in his pillow and hoped for either suffocation or sleep.

 

The next Thursday, Nico pulled into the clinic’s parking lot and sighed slowly. Anxiety was eating away at his chest and his attempts to soothe it away were doing absolutely nothing. _Think of the positives,_ he told himself. It was easier said than done, but he tried anyway.   

Positive Number One: It was summer break. This meant that the ten o’clock appointment Hazel had scheduled him for was actually doable, for one thing, and he didn’t have to explain to a teacher and three of the office staff where he was going before he was allowed out of the school. This also meant that he didn’t have to have his dad – or, God forbid, _Persephone_ – check him out of school, since he unfortunately wasn’t eighteen yet and therefore couldn’t do it himself.

Positive Number Two: he had been allowed to drive himself instead of having to rely on someone else to take him. Usually, he wasn’t allowed to drive without someone else in the car. Nico knew why. Who in their right mind would want an actively suicidal teenager alone behind the wheel of a several-ton metal death trap? No one sensible, that was for sure. But for once, he had been allowed to drive alone, which meant there was no one else there to witness his anxiety and no one who would be coming into the clinic with him. That was certainly a bigger relief than Nico had expected. The fewer people were there to witness this inevitable, nightmarish mess that Nico was certain the appointment would be, the better.

Nico took a deep, slow breath and stepped out of his car. Anxiety still pricked at his thoughts, but he pushed it away. _One thing at a time,_ Nico told himself. _Just get inside. Then worry about what comes next._ Every step he took toward the clinic’s doors was harder than the last; Nico’s feet felt like there had been cinder blocks glued to them. Nico wasn’t sure it should be _this_ incredibly difficult to do this. He did it anyway. Nico was well aware that this was necessary, that he _needed_ it, and that Hazel would kill him if he skipped out on his appointment. So instead of bolting back to his car like he wanted to, Nico forced himself to walk up to the front desk on shaking legs.

“I’m, uh… I’m here for my appointment.” Nico’s voice was halting and seemed too loud in the quiet of the small front room.

“Okay!” the lady behind the desk chirped, sounding too happy and too enthusiastic to exist at the same time as the all-encompassing anxiety threatening to burst through Nico’s chest and maybe break a few ribs on its way out. “Can I get your name?”

“di Angelo. Er, Nico,” he stuttered, cursing his inability to interact with other people like a normal human being. “Nico di Angelo.”

“Great!” the woman replied brightly, tapping away on her keyboard for no reason Nico could discern. “Go ahead and take a seat; Dr. Beckham should be ready for you in a few minutes.”

Unsure of what else to say, Nico nodded and turned to find a place to sit. Luckily, there was only one other person there besides Nico and the receptionist woman – a blond boy about Nico’s age who, thankfully, appeared to be entirely absorbed in his phone. Nico took the seat closest to the door, still considering bolting and just dealing with Hazel’s disappointment. Of course, if he left, it was entirely possible that he’d just be forced to come back in a few days with someone with him to keep him from running off again, and if there was anything he absolutely wanted to avoid, it would be that. He’d barely been able to fill out the pre-appointment assessment they’d been mailed without Hazel looking over his shoulder; he shuddered to think what she’d be like if she came to an actual appointment. No, it was better to just stay and endure the next hour of awkwardness and anxiety and too much vulnerability alone. Nico loved Hazel, and he knew her intentions were good, but she could be extremely overbearing, especially when it came to his mental health.

Usually, Nico would distract himself by people-watching when his anxiety got like this, but there were only two other people in the room. Nico decided to try anyway. The receptionist lady was fairly stereotypical and rather boring, in Nico’s opinion. Bleach blonde hair, too much eyeliner, candy red lips, muddy blue eyes that Nico suspected were the work of cheap coloured contacts, the whole nine yards. She looked like she would rather be doing anything _but_ her job, and it looked to Nico like she was maybe playing minesweeper, if the intense look of frustrated concentration on her face was anything to go by. Nico turned his gaze to the blond boy instead. He was tan and fit; Nico had a rather nice view of the boy’s biceps courtesy of the sleeveless shirt he was wearing. The blond boy had freckles, too, and startling blue eyes that were definitely not the work of coloured contacts. His hair was curling wildly in the humidity and the heat, a few strands sticking to his forehead. A colourful array of plastic wrist bands decorated his forearms all the way up to his elbows on both arms, and there were a few knotted cloth bracelets looped loosely around his wrists. He was smiling, but Nico couldn’t quite tell if that was just the blond boy’s default expression or if he had just seen something amusing on his phone.

As if sensing Nico’s attention, the blond boy looked up and smiled. Nico immediately turned away, feigning disinterest. His cheeks felt warm. Nico desperately hoped he wasn’t blushing. It was bad enough that he’d been caught staring; the last thing he needed was to be caught _blushing_ as well.

Apparently, the blond boy had misconstrued Nico’s interest as a desire for socialization rather than a desperate attempt to ignore anxiety, because the boy stood and moved to sit directly beside Nico. There were at least twenty empty seats in the room, and the blond boy chose the only seat that was directly adjacent to Nico’s.

If Nico could have melted through the floor and disappeared, he would have.

“Hi!” Oh, God, the blond boy was talking. Nico wanted to crawl out of his skin. “My name is Will!”

The blond boy – Will – was holding out his hand. Nico stared at if for a few seconds too long, then remembered that he was expected to respond like a normal human being and shook it. If Nico hadn’t been blushing before, he sure was _now._ How was he so bad at this? Nico really did need to get out more. Cute boys were harder to interact with than he had thought.

“Nico,” he replied after an awkward beat of silence. Will beamed. Nico thought he might go blind.

“That’s a cool name,” Will hummed. Nico tried not to wonder what someone so bright was doing in a therapist’s office. It was none of his business anyway.

Nico made a vague noise as thanks, curling his fingers tightly around the cuffs of his sweatshirt’s sleeves. Conversation had never been his forte, and he was out of practice after keeping himself in social isolation for so long. Will didn’t seem to mind, though. He started talking, hopping from one topic to the next so quickly that Nico wouldn’t have been able to respond even if he had known how to do so. Will mostly just told stories, little anecdotes that fell somewhere between being funny and strange. Most involve either Lou Ellen or Cecil, usually both. Nico had no idea who either of these people were, but he quickly found out that Lou Ellen had a mischievous streak a mile wide and Cecil was a habitual prankster, which meant that there was almost always trouble to be found when they were together. Nico also learned that Will had a massive family that mostly consisted of half-siblings because his dad got around a little too much and was apparently incapable of taking precautions against getting his one-night stands pregnant.

Will seemed content to talk and talk and talk without much pause or input from Nico, and he was fine with that. He preferred to sit and listen, though he was a bit concerned that Will would forget to breathe between all those words. If Will’s face started going blue, Nico decided, he’d make Will slow down to breathe.

The fifteen or minutes or so before Will’s therapist called him back felt like an eternity. Not that Nico was complaining. He liked listening to Will. He was bright and enthusiastic and incredibly _alive_ in a way that Nico hadn’t seen in anyone for months. It was a nice change, and Nico thought that maybe Will’s energy was infecting him, too.

It wasn’t until Nico’s therapist came out to greet him that he realized that, while Will was talking, Nico’s anxiety had almost entirely disappeared.

The therapy session went better than Nico had expected it would. His therapist wasn’t overly intrusive and she seemed willing to let Nico open up at his own pace, which was more courtesy than Nico had thought he would get. Of course, it might have helped that Hazel had apparently told her a little bit while scheduling his appointment, but his point still stood. God, he still couldn’t believe Hazel had done that. Nico half wanted to chew her out again and half wanted to get her a gift or something as thanks. He decided that just pretending nothing had happened like he’d been doing for the last few days would work, at least for a little longer.

Nico found himself whistling and swinging the car keys around his index finger as he walked to the car and had to pause to do a quick mental inventory. He didn’t feel _good,_ per se, but he felt… functional. It was an improvement. And, for the first time in months, Nico could feel inspiration poking at him, and a burst of joy fizzled through. He wanted to _paint._ He hadn’t even thought about picking up a paintbrush in months, and here he was only minutes after his first therapy session – which barely even counted, because he had barely said more than three sentences of importance in the entire hour – already outlining a painting in his head.

Maybe he’d have to get Hazel that gift, after all.

Nico had barely taken his shoes off and dropped the car keys on the counter before he was bolting up the stairs, taking them two at a time. It was impossible to tell how long this burst of inspiration would last, and he was determined to get as much out of it as he possibly could. He paused briefly to grab a ratty hoodie and shrug it on in his bedroom to make sure he wouldn’t get paint on his shirt and then headed to the attic.

He hesitated for a moment before tugging down the ladder that lead to the attic. Years ago, Nico had converted the attic to a little studio, and he’d spent countless hours up there, losing himself in swirls of colour against canvas. It had become a sort of safe Haven for him; a place where he could go when the world seemed too big and he felt too small and he just wanted to be alone for a while. Occasionally, he had lost track of time so thoroughly that someone had to go get a key, unlock the hatch, and tell him that it was one or two in the morning. He hadn’t been in the attic in months, though. It felt wrong, without –

 _No,_ Nico told himself firmly, mentally slapping himself upside the head. _None of that self-sabotage bullshit. You’re going to paint, not wallow in your issues for another month._

He climbed the ladder. The attic looked the same as it had, if a little dustier: huge paneled windows along one wall, the large basin sink tucked into a corner, art supplies and easels and canvas scattered in groups along the edges of the room. The last painting he’d been working on -  an attempt at replicating the view out the window – still sat unfinished in the middle of the room. He ignored it; that piece could wait a little longer.

Nico fell into his old patterns effortlessly, much to his relief. He didn’t know how long he spent in the attic, happily drowning all his negative emotions in water-based paint, but by the time his inspiration began to dwindle, he had finished three paintings. One was a field of probably-inaccurate sunflowers, one was a close-up of a bumblebee resting on a blade of grass, and one was an image of streetlights reflecting off wet pavement in the middle of the night. For once, he was satisfied with the finished products. Of course, he knew he would probably have been satisfied with anything at that point because he’d finished _anything_ at all, but he tucked his satisfaction into the little mental box where he kept positive emotions. Even so, he was a little confused by the paintings. More specifically, he was confused by the amount of yellow in them. Nico had always found yellow to be a particularly difficult colour for him to work with – it was so bright that it could too easily become overworking, and it got _everywhere_ if he even thought about using it, much in the same way white did – but there was a surprising abundance of it in his three newest pieces. He shrugged it off; yellow was typically a cheerful colour, so he had probably just unconsciously associated it with his far-better-than-usual mood.

He cleaned up and put everything away, glancing at the unfinished piece he had pushed to the side earlier. Maybe he’d try to finish it tomorrow, if he had the energy to get out of bed. On his way back downstairs, Nico caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror and had to do a double take. He was smiling, and he hadn’t even realized it. There was a streak of yellow paint smeared across his forehead and speckles of green splattered across his right cheek from his chin to his temple. He considered washing it off, then decided not to. It was a nice little reminder that today had been a good day, overall, between talking to a cute boy – sort of, anyway – a good therapy session, and painting again.

Nico watched his smile widen in the mirror and thought that maybe things would be all right after all.

 

When Nico walked into the clinic for his second appointment a couple weeks later, he was surprised to find Will sitting in the same chair he’d been in the first time they’d talked. Nico had never really expected to see Will again, but Nico was glad he had. Maybe this time Nico could manage to say more than three words to Will.

Will looked up from his phone when Nico sat beside him, just like Will had done to Nico last time. With a smile, Will slid his phone into his pocket. “Hey! Nico, right?”

Nico nodded. “Yeah.” So much for more than three words.

Luckily, Will didn’t seem to mind Nico’s social ineptitude. He just smiled again. “Oh, good! I usually forget people’s real names because I give them nicknames in my head. You’re Sunshine, by the way. In case you were wondering.”

Nico raised an eyebrow at that. He wasn’t entirely sure how Will had gotten ‘Sunshine’ from Nico’s all-black attire and withdrawn attitude. “How do you figure?”

Will giggled, and Nico almost died. Of _course_ Will was a giggler. “You strike me as the type who acts all badass and then turns out to be a giant softie with a penchant for accidental optimism. So, ‘Sunshine.’”

It still didn’t make a lot of sense, but Nico nodded anyway. “Just don’t ever call me that out loud.”

Will snorted. “Let me guess, you’d prefer ‘Death Boy’ or something edgy like that?”

“That’s only marginally better,” Nico sighed with a roll of his eyes, though a smile was beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth.

“I think I’ll call you Sunshine,” Will said, grinning mischievously.

Nico huffed. “You’re the blond one,” he grumbled. “It would suit you better.”

Will giggled again. Nico started outlining his will in his head. If Will was going to keep making that noise, Nico’s heart was going to stop and he was going to keel over dead. “I thought it up first. I’m claiming copyright. Well, trademark. But you know what I mean.”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way,” Nico replied dryly.

Will laughed. “I’m going to do it anyway.”

They continued like that, bantering back and forth lightly, before Will got called back by his therapist. When he did, Will tugged a pen out of his pocket and grabbed Nico’s hand. Nico was so taken aback by the sudden, entirely unexpected contact that he didn’t realize that Will had tugged up Nico’s sleeve and written something on his arm until Will was gone. When Nico realized that what Will had written was a phone number, Nico thought he might have made a friend. _Maybe I’m getting better at this ‘socializing’ thing._

As it turned out, their text conversations were much like their in-person ones: full of light teasing and gentle insults that carried no real heat. Nico found that he genuinely _enjoyed_ talking to Will, which was a little bit of a surprise. Usually, talking to people on a regular basis felt more like an obligation or a chore than a leisure to Nico, because he was always worried about how he was coming off and what sort of impression he was making and trying desperately to appropriately gauge the other person’s emotions to try and figure out his own response and communication became just generally _exhausting._ But it wasn’t like that with Will. Nico had never believed the stories about people meeting other people and just _‘clicking’_ and getting along right off the bat, but he thought maybe that was what had happened with Will. Nico also thought that he rather enjoyed having someone he never got tired of talking to.

The only bad thing about his newfound love of socializing was that it was a serious distraction while Nico was trying to paint. His phone buzzed again and Nico sighed fondly, tucking his paintbrush behind his ear and then wiping his hand on his jeans, leaving a streak of bright blue behind. He was trying to keep his phone paint-free, but the case was already smeared with orange, white, and grey.

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_gdi i love lasagna but i’m lactose intolerant ;-;_ **

**_why must the universe hate  me so_ **

****

Nico snorted.

 

**_To: Will_ **

**_please tell me you didn’t eat any_ **

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_…_ **

**_maybe i did…_ **

****

**_To: Will_ **

**_then don’t whine to me when you’re dying later_ **

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_why are u so mean to meeeeeeee_ **

****

**_To: Will_ **

**_you will get no sympathy from me if you’re going to be an idiot_ **

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_rude!!!!_ **

****

**_To: Will_ **

**_that’s me_ **

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_i bet ur the kind of person who would eat lasagna right in front of me just to be mean :T_ **

****

**_To: Will_ **

**_oh I absolutely would_ **

****

The next Thursday, Nico found Will sitting in the same spot with a Tupperware container of lasagna sitting in his lap. Nico’s stomach curdled at the thought of food, but he took it anyway. Will gave it to him with a teasing pout and then winked. Nico was certain Will would be the death of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's still monday here shhhhh i'm not late
> 
> also! there are some pretty heavy trigger warnings for this chapter so please be careful!! warnings for mentions of self-harm, some internalized homophobia, ableism (?), and depressive episodes

It had been a little over a month since Nico had met the literal ball of sunshine that was Will Solace, and Nico had to say that it was very possible the easiest, most enjoyable first month of friendship he’d ever had. Nico was beginning to get a little wary, though. He’d had friends he’d been close to at first before, and then they began to pull away, usually around this point, and Nico desperately hoped it wouldn’t turn out that way with Will. It was starting to seem like Nico’s hope was in vain, though, because Will had been slowly withdrawing for the last couple days, just like the others had.

Just thinking about it made Nico want to cry.

Even today, Nico could sense the shift in Will’s demeanor. Nico had sent Will several texts over the course of the day and only gotten one response. Nico was worried about Will, but too afraid of seeming overbearing and pushy and clingy and pushing Will further away to express it. But it was three in the morning, and Will hadn’t responded in upward of fifteen hours, so Nico decided, in all his sleep-deprived glory, to try it anyway. Who cared if he was being pushy? It would be worth it if Will wasn’t okay and Nico managed to help, even just a little.

 

**_To: Will_ **

**_hey are you okay? you haven’t said much today_ **

**_it’s fine if you don’t want to talk_ **

**_I’m just getting worried_ **

****

Nico watched the minutes tick but agonizingly slowly. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Will was fine and he was just getting tired of Nico. Maybe –

His phone buzzed against his ribs. Nico’s heart stopped.

 

**_From: Will_ **

**_i didn’t mean to worry u_ **

**_im sorry_ **

**_and to answer ur question no im not okay_ **

**_its nbd tho dw_ **

****

Nico huffed out a breath. Was it wrong of him to be relieved? Probably. He was, though, and he tried not to feel too guilty to it. _You’re allowed to have emotions that aren’t always positive,_ his therapist’s voice reminded him in his head. He took a deep breath. He was glad Will wasn’t getting tired of him, not glad Will was hurting, so it was probably okay.

 

**_To: Will_ **

**_do you want to talk about it?_ **

****

            The response came quicker this time, much to Nico’s relief.

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_yes pls_ **

**_is it really ok if i vent to u?_ **

****

**_To: Will_ **

**_yeah of course_ **

            The little typing bubble appeared. Nico waited with is best approximation of patience for Will to respond. The bubble disappeared, then reappeared, then went away again. Nico’s vague relief slid away, immediately replaced with fear and worry. Had something happened?

 

**_From: Will_ **

**_actually can i call u instead_ **

 

Nico didn’t even hesitate to hit the ‘call’ button. Will picked up almost immediately. For a moment, there was awkward, uneasy silence as they both waited for the other to say something first, and then Will’s breath hitched and Nico realized that bright, sweet, ever-energetic William Solace was about to cry.

“Hey,” Nico murmured, hoping to whatever deity may have still been listening to him anymore that his voice was more soothing than awkward. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” Will stuttered. Nico’s heart clenched.

“For what?”

Will was silent for a long moment. Nico knew it was because Will was trying to stifle his tears. “For everything, I guess,” Will muttered after a moment.

“You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Will laughed, but the sound had none of its usual mirth. “I’ve been practically ignoring you all week; I worried you; and I’ve been a shitty friend for the last few days. I –”

Nico heard Will’s jaw snap shut with a finality that scared Nico. It was obvious that Will was hiding something, but Nico didn’t know if he was supposed to press Will on it or not. Nico felt oddly out of place in that moment. It wasn’t that he was a stranger to this general scenario, but  rather, it was a familiar situation turned in its head. Usually, Nico was the one being comforted, and now he was doing his best to do the comforting, even though he had no idea what he was actually doing.

“You what?” Nico probed as gently as he could. If Will shut him out a second time, Nico would back off, but he figured he should at least make an effort in case Will was waiting for an explicit question to ask as permission to spill his guts and tell Nico whatever it was that he’d been about to say.

Will’s breath hitched and Nico had the disconcerting suspicion that Will was crying outright now. Beginning to panic, Nico opened his mouth to backtrack, but Will inhaled shakily in a way that felt like secrets and shared pain and Nico quickly shut up.

“I fucked up, Nico,” Will’s voice was quieter than Nico had ever heard it. He might very well start crying, too, if Will kept this up. “I fucked up really badly.”

“How so?” Nico wasn’t sure he was prepared to hear the answer, but he forced himself to ask anyway. It was clear Will wanted to talk about whatever it was that was going on, but didn’t know how to do so without prompting. Nico could relate. There were plenty of things he felt that way about. Nico certainly wasn’t going to shut this conversation down; God only knew what might happen if he did. Will would internalize this, at least, or shut down entirely and never talk to Nico again at worst. Besides, Nico had no real reason for avoiding this conversation. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable or that he thought this conversation would ruin his opinion of Will or anything like that. No, when it came down to it, Nico was just scared. He was scared for Will, and he was scared that there was nothing he would be able to do to help Will if it was as bad as he was making it sound.

Again, Will fell silent. “Do you know why I always wear so many bracelets?” he asked lowly after a moment.

Nico shook his head despite the fact that he knew Will couldn’t see him. “No.”

It was true. Nico didn’t _know,_ not for sure. He knew he’d never seen Will take them off, and he knew that Will was constantly either fiddling with them or brushing his fingers over them as if making sure they were all there. Nico had his ideas and his theories, of course, each more worrisome and frightening than the last, but he’d never gotten a detailed explanation. He’d never asked, either; he hadn’t ever thought it was any of his business.

“They hide the scars,” Will muttered in response, his voice thick with shame and heavy with the weight of tears he was trying and clearly failing to restrain. Nico’s heart dropped.

“Scars?” Nico’s voice was far quieter than he would have liked, but at least it was steady, and he didn’t think his fear for Will had crept into it too much. There were so many awful, heartbreaking reasons Will could have scars all the way down his forearm, and Nico was terrified that any of them were the truth.

Will blew out a breath. “Yeah. I used to…” he trailed off, then sighed again. “Come on, Sunshine. Don’t make me say it. Please. You know what I’m trying to say, right?”

For once, Nico couldn’t even protest the nickname. He knew. He desperately wished hid didn’t, but he did, and he couldn’t erase the knowledge from his brain no matter how much he wished he could. Nico barely managed to choke out a confirmation. Will had just admitted that he’d used self-harm as a coping mechanism and Nico didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to something like that.

It wasn’t as if he was a stranger to the concept of self-harm. He’d come across the idea of someone hurting themselves to feel better on the Internet when he was about twelve – surprise, surprise – because he had stumbled across a self-help forum while he was tumbling down a rabbit hole of ‘am I gay?’ questionnaires and homophobic Facebook groups. Someone had posted something about pressing ice to their wrist helped them control the urge, and Nico had Googled ‘self-harm’ because he hadn’t understood why anyone would cut themselves on purpose. At the time, it had seemed a little oxymoronic to Nico – someone is in pain, so they hurt themselves more to feel better? It sounded like the positive feedback loop from hell. He’d done more research since then and knew it wasn’t that simple; he’d never done it himself, but he understood the urge. Nico had also heard all the shit people said about it, though. _“Hey, did you hear about that emo chick they caught in the bathroom yesterday? I heard she was trying to burn her hand off.” “Oh, come on, man. Don’t be such a pussy. You gonna turn into one of those losers crying in the bathroom and cutting themselves?” “Nah, she’s not really depressed. Everyone knows that if they cut on their arms they’re just looking for attention.”_ Nico’s blood boiled, now, remembering all those terrible comments from those terrible people.

“Used to?” Nico pushed tentatively. Will sighed.

“Yeah. Used to. I’m… I’ve been clean for almost three years.” Will made a choked little noise that was half a sob and half a whimper. Nico desperately wished he was with Will right then. He’d never wanted to hug anyone more in his life.

“Will,” Nico murmured. “What happened?”

“I fucked up,” Will repeated, voice strangled. “I… Jesus. I relapsed. It – it wasn’t on my arms, though, I promise. I wasn’t that stupid this time.”

Nico’s breath caught in his chest. _Oh, God._ A wave of guilt crashed over Nico, cold and unforgiving. Will had been in such a bad place mentally that he had turned to one of the worst coping mechanisms Nico knew of, and Nico had been lying in bed feeling sorry for himself. _How pathetic_ am _I?_

“Oh.” It was the lamest thing Nico could have possible said in response, but he coulnd’t think of anything profound or elegant to say in comfort. He was so out of his depth that he was afraid he was going to drown and drag Will down with him. “Did something – did something happen?”

Will laughed wetly. Nico wondered if he had asked a stupid question. He had thought it was a reasonable enough question, but Nico also knew damn well that he was absolutely abysmal at this, so it was entirely possible he had been wrong.

“No,” Will muttered with a sigh. There was a shuffling sound, as if Will were rolling over or something. “Well, yes, but it didn’t cause it.  I mean, technically it did, but it’s not a big deal. Or it shouldn’t be, anyway. I’m sorry; I’m awful at this.”

“It’s all right,” Nico hummed. “I’m not exactly all that good at this, either. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Will admitted quietly. “Like… I do, but there’s a lot, and I don’t know if I can explain it all over the phone like this. It’s… hard.”

Nico was struck by a sudden burst of inspiration and blurted, “Do you want me to come over?”

“I… what?” Will was confused; that much was obvious. That was understandable. Nico was a little confused, himself. He had no idea where that had come from. But it was out there, now, and Nico sure as fuck wasn’t going to back down. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Will accepted the offer, but he’d figure something out.

“Uh, sure,” Will stuttered. “Do you – do you want me to text you my address? Wait, you can drive, right?”

“Yes, please. And yeah, I can drive,” Nico replied, sitting up and ignoring the immediate wave of vertigo the movement caused.

“Good,” Will responded, a smile in his voice. “Don’t wake anyone up.”

Nico snorted and bent to tug on his shoes. “Dude, this house is so empty that you could drop a feather and the sound would echo. I’m not making promises.”

“Okay, then. Don’t wake anyone up _intentionally.”_

“That I can do.”

Will laughed, and Nico closed his eyes for a moment in relief. At least Will seemed to be feeling a little better, if he was laughing so brightly again.

“Will you be all right if I hang up?” Nico asked tentatively, scribbling a note on a Post-It to let Hazel know where he’d gone and grabbing the keys to the only car he was allowed to drive.

“Yeah,” Will replied, though he sounded reluctant. Nico understood. He didn’t want to hang up and leave Will alone with his thoughts, but Nico couldn’t use his phone as a phone and a GPS at the same time.

“All right. I’ll be there soon, Will.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Will murmured, and Nico could hear the anxiety building in Will’s voice.

Nico hung up and hurried to the car.

Will’s house was blessedly close – only about fifteen minutes away from Nico’s. It was a nice house, big enough for the ridiculous number of siblings Will apparently had. Nico was just glad he’d found it so quickly. He shot Will a text, figuring it wouldn’t be a good idea to knock or ring the doorbell at three thirty in the morning, and climbed out of the car. After a moment, Will opened the door. He was a t-shirt and pajama pants and looked beyond exhausted, but Nico was just relieved to see him.

Before he had even made a conscious decision to move, Nico was bolting forward to hug Will as tightly as he dared, trying his best to keep from hurting Will. Will stumbled a little, but quickly returned the hug just as tightly. Nico was shaking a little with lingering fear and adrenaline, but Will was trembling, too, so it was okay. They stood there for a long moment, clinging to each other in the front doorway and the dim, flickering light from the street lamps.

“Are you okay?” Nico murmured into Will’s shoulder, unwilling to let go just yet.

Will nodded, his curls brushing against the side of Nico’s neck with the motion. Nico sighed in relief.

“Thank you for calling me,” Nico whispered, and Will began to shake harder.

“Thank you for coming,” he replied. Nico just tightened his hold on Will a little.

They stood like that until the coldness of the night began to get to them, then closed the door and moved inside. Nico couldn’t see much in the dark – Will had kept all the lights off, presumably to keep from waking any of his siblings or his father – but what was visible enough for Nico to tell that whoever Will’s father was, the man was clearly financially well off. It was a different sort of wealth than the sort Nico’s father paraded; it turned the atmosphere of the house into something warm and bright and nurturing rather than giving it keep himself so unnervingly bright and unerringly optimistic despite the fact that he was clearly struggling. For a long time, Nico had thought mental illness and honest to God happiness were mutually exclusive concepts. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Nico didn’t fully understand where Will was leading him until Will flicked on a right and Nico realized with a start that he was in Will’s bedroom. _Well, fuck._ Will sat down on the bed and then patted the mattress beside him, which Nico took as an invitation to sit. He did. There was nothing but vaguely awkward silence for a moment as both of them tried to avoid bringing up the reason Nico had rushed over in the first place. Eventually, Will huffed a small sigh and flopped backward onto the mattress so he was lying on his back.

“I changed my mind,” Will muttered. “This would’ve been easier on the phone.

Nico nodded in what he hoped looked something like sympathy. He really was awful at open displays of emotion. “We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he offered. “Or ever, if that’s what you want.”

Will smiled up at Nico, visibly grateful. “Thanks, Sunshine. I can’t really speak for later, but I definitely don’t want to try to have this conversation right now.”

Nico returned the smile. Will blinked up at Nico for half a second, then narrowed his eyes teasingly. “You didn’t get upset about the nickname! I knew it. You like it.”

“I do not!” Nico protested, cheeks going hot.” I just don’t feel like arguing with you right now.”

Will snorted. “That’s a first.”

Nico had to admit that Will had a point. Usually, he would be happy to argue playfully about that heinous nickname for hours. But tonight, Nico was just so stupidly worried that it was hard to find the need to bicker with Will.

As if sensing where Nico’s thoughts had gone – and hell, maybe he had; Nico was seriously starting to consider the possibility that Will was psychic or something – Will sighed worriedly and sat back up.

“Are _you_ okay, Nico?” Will asked gently.

Nico thought that if Will kept looking at him with that impossibly gentle and insufferably kind expression, Nico might very well spontaneously combust.

“I’m fine,” Nico replied, and for once, it was the truth. He couldn’t bring himself to even consider lying about his metal state when Will had been so incredibly vulnerable earlier. Not that there was anything for Nico to lie _about,_ but his point still stood. “Just worried about you.”

The smile Will gave Nico was unbearably soft. Nico was probably going to have a heart attack because of it. “Aww, how sweet, death boy. You don’t need to worry, though. I’m fine now.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “I’m going to worry, Solace. Get used to it. You’re my friend, I’m going to worry over you constantly.

Will laughed outright at that. “So you’re _that_ friend, huh? Got it.”

“Don’t you sass me, Solace,” Nico grumbled, though there was no real heat to his retort. “My mother was the same way, so at least I know where I got it from.”

Will sobered immediately. “‘Was’?”

Nico waved a hand dismissively, ignoring the usual pang of sadness and old grief he felt every time his mother was mentioned. “She died when I was little. Got caught in a house fire.”

Will looked absolutely heartbroken. “Like I said, it happened when I was little. I was… three? Ish? I don’t remember much about her. Bianca remembered her better than I did.”

It was only when Will’s face scrunched up in confusion that Nico realized what he’d said. When he did, he went as still as he could ever remember being. He hadn’t meant to mention her. It had just slipped out before he could stop it. Nico decided he’d blame it on sleep deprivation.

“Who’s Bianca?” Will asked.

Nico’s first instinct was to say she was no one, to deny any connection to her along with her existence. But he had talked with his therapist about this, and he tried to follow her advice. _Denying your pain and denying that she meant anything to you isn’t going to make the loss stop hurting, Nico,_ she’d said. _The only way it’s going to get better is if you open yourself to the grief and allow yourself to mourn. Talking about her is a good place to start. Remember: it’s okay to be hurt. Your grief is nothing to be ashamed of._

Nico took a shuddering breath and pressed his palms flat against the bedspread. “She was my sister,” he replied, hating how tight his voice sounded, stretched thinner than a sheet of tissue paper. “She was older than me by seven years, so she remembered Mom even though I don’t, at least not very well. Bianca used to tell me stories about her.”

His voice cracked over her name, and Will’s face crumpled with sadness. Nico looked away. He didn’t want to cry, but if Will kept looking at Nico like that, he would end up bursting into tears anyway.

“Oh, Nico,” Will breathed softly. “I’m so sorry. How did she…?”

“She was in the military,” Nico choked out, the beginnings of tears burning the back of his throat and his eyes as they clamored to get out. “She got deployed in December, right after Christmas. She wasn’t even gone for a few weeks before…”

Nico’s words got caught in his throat. If he said any more, he’d definitely start crying, so he snapped his jaw shut firmly. He still couldn’t bear to look at Will.

Suddenly there were arms around him, warm and comforting. “I’m sorry,” Will murmured. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You didn’t know,” Nico replied with a shake of his head, leaning gratefully into Will’s solid, sturdy support. “It’s all right. Besides, my therapist said I needed to talk about it – about _her_ – more, anyway.”

Will laughed, leaning his cheek against the top of Nico’s head. “Fair enough, Death Boy.”

They sat that way for a while; clearly they were both far more touch-starved than either of them had thought. The silence was comfortable, if a little heavy with everything they’d told each other that night. It was okay, though, because neither could really wallow when they were together. That would come later, Nico was sure, but for now, they were okay.

Nico didn’t realize he had begun to cry until Will’s thumb stroked across his cheek and came away wet. Startled, Nico pressed his palms to his eyes, his vision going blurry. He didn’t know _why_ he was crying. He wasn’t upset or anything. He wasn’t even dissociating like he usually was. Aside from the painful memories their brief conversation about Bianca had dredged up and the ever-present ache of grief in his chest, Nico was actually in quite a good mood, all things considered.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, wiping furiously at his eyes. It was a useless gesture, since the years were still coming, but  he did it anyway. “This is stupid; I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

“Hey, now,” Will said soothingly, running his fingers tentatively through Nico’s hair. Nico liked it far more than he was willing to ever admit out loud. “It’s all right. There’s nothing wrong with crying for no apparent reason. At least, I hope there isn’t, since I do it pretty much on a weekly basis.”

Nico laughed and sniffled a little. “Well, this definitely isn’t normal for me.”

Will laughed as well, still carding his fingers through Nico’s hair. Nico leaned into the touch unconsciously, sighing happily through his nose. He had stopped crying surprisingly quickly – not that he was complaining – and the tears were already drying on his cheeks where he hadn’t completely wiped them away.

It was only when Will yawned that Nico realized how late it actually was. A quick glance at the digital clock sitting on Will’s dresser confirmed Nico’s suspicions; it was almost four in the morning.

“I should go,” he said reluctantly. “It’s late.”

Will glanced at the clock as well. “Technically, it’s early.”

Nico smacked Will’s shoulder lightly. “You know what I mean, Solace.”

“I do know what you mean,” Will said, sobering a little. “You know… you could stay here, if you wanted. For the night, I mean. It’s late, and I’m not sure how good an idea driving is right now.

“I thought you said it was early,” Nico teased. “And besides, I was driving less than an hour ag; I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”

Will looked like he was about to protest, and then Nico yawned so wide his jaw cracked with the force of it. Will’s expression went from worried to smug. He raised his eyebrows pointedly. Nico rolled his eyes in response.

“Fine, fine,” Nico grumbled, throwing his hands up in a gesture of mock-surrender. “You win.”

Nico was absolutely certain that if he would go blind if Will kept smiling like that. Or explode, maybe. Either way.

Will went to go find a toothbrush for Nico to use, then came back with three because he didn’t know what colour Nico wanted, which Nico found to be equal parts hilarious and endearing. Will practically jumped into bed, making a soft sound of contentment as he buried himself in a messy pile of pillows and blankets.

“Can you get the lights?” Will asked, his voice muffled by the pillow he was face down in.

“Uh, sure.” Nico flicked the light switch off, blinking rapidly for a couple seconds as his eyes adjusted to the considerably dimmer light. “Um, where am I sleeping, exactly?”

Will groaned into the pillow. “Fuck,” Will sighed. “I was going to grab the air mattress for you.”

Nico snickered. “I’ll get it. Where is it?”

Will just shook his head. “It’s probably too loud, anyway,” he said, vaguely motioning for Nico to get closer. “Just sleep here.”

“I thought that was the plan,” Nico replied drily.

He could practically hear Will rolling his eyes. Was that even possible? Probably not. Maybe. “I don’t mean in the house; I meant in the bed, Death Boy.”

Nico’s heart stuttered to his heart and his stomach decided that twisting itself into knots would be the most helpful and productive thing it could do right then. “That’s still technically the house.”

“I’m too tired for your sarcasm, di Angelo,” Will groaned, though there was a smile in his voice. “Get over here.”

“I – are you sure?”  Nico asked, tripping over his words.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure,” Will replied. Nico couldn’t see Will’s face, partially because it was still squashed into a pillow and partially because the room was so dark, but  it was easy to hear the humour in his voice.

“All right,” Nico squeaked, then cleared his throat.

“I mean, unless you aren’t comfortable with it,” Will rushed to say, propping himself up on his elbows so he was more audible. “That’s fine, too.”

Nico shook his head, the insecurity in Wills’ voice making up Nico’s mind for him. “No, it’s fine. I get the wall side, though.”

Even in the dark, Will’s smile was blinding. This really was starting to become a problem, Nico mused.

After a couple minutes of shifting and shuffling and accidentally jabbing each other with elbows and knees, they finally managed to get settled somewhat comfortable. Will’s bed wasn’t exactly made to fit two people, but they made it work. Admittedly, ‘making it work’ involved Will’s back pressed firmly against Nico’s chest and Nico’s arm curled under the pillow Will was lying on, but Nico wasn’t a fucking quitter, no matter how intent his heart was on escaping his ribcage.

Will fell asleep quickly. Nico was jealous. He laid there, screaming internally, as Will’s breath slowed and evened out and Will began to relax. Nico felt like at any moment he’d crawl out of his skin or burst into flames. _There are worse ways to go,_ Nico admitted to himself, shivering a little at the feel of Will’s curls brushing up against his collar bone. _I guess if my heart explodes, I get to be the first person to die of being too gay._

Nico was smiling when his exhaustion finally got the better of him and dragged him under.

 

It was, in Nico’s opinion, far too early when he woke the next morning. Actually, he was one hundred percent certain that he was up too early. His limbs and eyelids were heavy in that way that meant he’d gotten so little sleep that every inch of him was begging in to go back to sleep. For once, Nico agreed with is body. This was complete and utter _bullshit,_ without a shadow of a doubt.

Nico went to roll over to check the time and was surprised to find that he couldn’t. There was something warm and solid in the way. Slowly, as Nico forced his senses to start working again, he began to realize that he definitely wasn’t at home. For one thing, he most certainly didn’t own any flannel blankets like the one was currently cocooned in. For another, Nico couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken to find the house smelling like pancakes and warm syrup.

The previous night came flooding back to him in a rush. Nico forced his eyes open. While he was asleep, he had rolled over and now his nose was approximately three inches from the wall. Will’s chest was rising and falling slowly against Nico’s back, and at some point, Will had thrown one of his arms over Nico’s waist.

_Right. Spontaneous combustion._

Will made a low, tired sound and his arm tensed a little, pulling Nico slightly closer. Nico squeaked. _This is how I’m going to die. I am going to die because I’m too awkward and emotionally constipated and my gayness is going to explode in my skull and kill me._

Nico just hoped none of his brain matter ended up on Will.

Will swore, spitting out a long, low string of words that would have made Persephone keel over in shock. Nico rather liked it.

“Why am I awake so early?” Will groaned, rolling onto his back. “It hurts to be alive.”

“I feel it,” Nico replied, a yawn shuddering through him as he rolled over to face Will. Will’s hair was sticking at all sorts of strange angles, and there were crease lines on his face from the pillow. It was an extremely good look for him, in Nico’s opinion.

A knock on the door drew both their attention. Will made a noise that was something between a whimper and a groan and threw a pillow at the door. “Go away!” he called.

The person at the door didn’t get the message. The door creaked open and a small girl peered around it. She looked uncannily like Will – bright blonde hair, startlingly blue eyes, and enough freckles on one cheek for two entire people.

“Will, Dad says –” she began, but then she caught sight of Nico and her eyes went wide.

“Laila, no –” Will started to say, but the girl just grinned mischievously.

She promptly turned and bolted down the hall, screaming “Will has a _boy_ in his room!” at what had to be the top of her tiny little lungs. Nico didn’t want to know if her voice got any louder.

Will was bright red from his collar bone all the way up to his hairline as he flopped back down onto the bed. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “I am so, so sorry, Nico. They’re all going to be absolutely infantile now.”

Nico couldn’t help but laugh, but then he paused. Usually, his immediate – albeit internal and very thoroughly hated – reaction to someone even insinuating that he was dating any of his male friends was a wave of terror and anger and hours of wondering if they _knew._ He wasn’t out to anyone yet, and he didn’t plan on changing that for a while. And yet, when Will’s little sister had done just that, Nico had been surprisingly okay with it. The only other time that had happened was –

 _Oh,_ Nico realized. _Oh. Fuck._

“It’s all right,” Nico laughed as he sat up. He knew he was well and truly fucked when he realized he actually meant it. “Since we’re up, why don’t we got nip this mess in the bud and maybe get some food while we’re at it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nico is a rare Driving Gay


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all it's only 11:30 where i am this still counts

Nico was not prepared for the cheers that erupted when he and Will walked into the packed kitchen. Will’s blush had faded for a moment, but now it was back in full force, and Will choked out a tiny, embarrassed noise. Nico stifled a laugh. Laila was sitting on the counter, looking incredibly pleased with herself as she swung her leg. Will looked vaguely torn between throwing himself out a window and throwing one of his siblings out a window.

Nico leaned toward Will and muttered softly, “I’m not covering for you if you kill one of them.”

Will snorted. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“So who’s this?” asked one of the boys by the sink slyly. Like everyone except Nico currently in the kitchen, he shared Will’s blonde hair and electric blue eyes. It was actually a bit unnerving, how similar they all looked. “You should introduce us to your friend, Will.”

“I hate all of you,” Will muttered.”

Laughter rippled around the room, and Nico couldn’t help but join in. The glare Will shot Nico was entirely without heat. Even if Will had truly been angry with Nico, Will’s blush was dark enough hat Nico would have been completely unable to take the expression seriously anyway.

“Now, now,” the man at the stove scolded lightly. He looked older than any of the other people in the room; Nico thought the man was maybe in his late forties or early fifties. Will’s dad, Nico guessed. “Let’s not embarrass our guest.”

Will made an indignant sound. “What about not embarrassing _me?”_

Will’s father flapped a hand dismissively in Will’s general direction. “They’re your siblings; it’s their job to embarrass you.”

Will groaned theatrically, his cheeks still impressively red with embarrassment. Nico was trying to seem sympathetic, he really was, but he knew he was failing miserably at it, probably because he was also failing miserably at repressing the grin spreading over his face.

It wasn’t that Nico was enjoying Will’s embarrassment. Well, all right, it was pretty entertaining to see Will so thoroughly flustered, but that wasn’t why Nico was enjoying himself as much as he was. The reason he was grinning like a maniac was because this kitchen – the entire house, really – and everyone in it positively _reeked_ of the warm, gentle, comfortable familiarity for family. _Real_ family, not just a group of people who lived in the same house with little to no real attachment to each other like the mess that past as a family in Nico’s life. This was a family that unapologetically gave a damn about each other, and Nico found it… refreshing, almost. It was nice to hear laughter from more than one person at a time. It was nice to be able to look at someone and receive a smile in return instead of cold dismissal or being straight up ignored. This family, unlike Nico’s, practically bled safety and warmth and overwhelming acceptance. Nico was enjoying every second of it. He was determined to bask in the comforting atmosphere of a family that actually acted like a family for as long as he possibly could, if for no other reason than to know what it felt like.

“You still haven’t introduced us,” the boy by the sink said, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

Will groaned. “Lee…”

A girl leaning against the door snickered, raising her eyebrows expectantly at her brother. “He’s not wrong, Will. Who’s your friend?”

The emphasis she put on the word ‘friend’ made Will’s blush darken to something closer to scarlet. Nico was starting to get concerned. He wasn’t entirely sure it was healthy for Will’s face to be so red.

“Not you, too, Kayla.” Will’s voice was almost a whine.

Another of his brothers cackled from where he was leaning against the counter beside Laila. “Oh, come on, Will. Just tell us his name. It shouldn’t be that hard to introduce a friend. I mean, unless, of course –”

 _“Michael!”_ Will shouted, making Michael’s eyes spark impishly.

Deciding to spare Will from any further embarrassment before his head exploded, Nico held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m Nico,” he said, as calmly and confidently as he could while holding back his laughter.

All of Will’s siblings grinned nearly simultaneously, their timing eerie and seeming nearly practiced, then introduced themselves as well. Nico tried to keep track of them all, but it was difficult ad he knew he wouldn’t remember many, if any at all, of Will’s siblings’ names later. Eleanor was the oldest at twenty four, followed by Daryl at twenty two, Beth at twenty, and Michael and Lee at nineteen. The triplets, Cecelia, Grace, and Jessie were eighteen; Will and Kayla fell in the middle at seventeen; Jacob was sixteen; the twins, Vincent and Nora, were twelve, and Laila was four. Nico just smiled, hoping his expression didn’t reflect how utterly overwhelmed but the sudden, unexpected onslaught of information that had just been thrown at him.

“Are all of your siblings in this room?” Nico asked lowly, wincing internally at how daze he sounded even to his own ears.

Will laughed. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“Oh, thank God,” Nico sighed. “My brain can’t take any more of this.

Again, Will laughed. Nico’s stupid heart stumbled and fell on its face. In its defense, Will _did_ have a very nice laugh.

“These are only dad’s kids who live with him,” Will murmured, a laugh still lingering in his eyes. “I have, like, ten other half-siblings scattered across the country, and that’s only the ones I know about.”

“Jesus Christ,” Nico muttered back.

“It’s rude to gossip about your father when he’s less than ten feet away from you,” laughed Will’s father, handing Laila a plate of pancakes, which she promptly drowned rather gleefully in syrup.

“Consider it revenge for being an ass earlier,” Will replied, rolling his eyes a little. He was smiling, though.

Nico half expected Will’s father to snap something about respecting one’s elders like Nico’s would have, or glare coldly until Will averted his eyes and mumbled an apology like Persephone would have. Instead, Will’s father just laughed and turned back to the stove. Something in Nico’s chest eased, and suddenly if felt like a weight he hadn’t known was there to begin with had been lifted off his chest.

Breakfast was a loud, exuberant affair, and Nico loved every moment of it. Usually he wasn’t one for large crowds of loud people who were mostly strangers, but for some reason, this time was different. Maybe it was because Will was constantly at Nico’s shoulder, effectively staving off Nico’s social anxiety, at least for the most part. Maybe it was because, despite their wide variety of personality, Will’s entirely family was overwhelmingly kind, so it was a little like being in a room full of people who were, at the most basic level, essentially sunshine incarnate. Maybe it was because this house was so much more comfortable than the one Nico lived in, or because this family seemed so much closer to what he thought bight be home than Nico’s own. Maybe it was because, for once, Nico felt comfortable enough in his own skin to hold a conversation with someone he didn’t know all that well, even though usually even the thought of doing so made him want to hide under his blankets and never leave his bedroom again. Maybe it was simple they absence of al the cold shoulders and ruthless indifference and passive aggressive hatred that surrounded Nico’s father and Persephone. Nico didn’t know what it was, and he wasn’t sure he cared. All he knew was that, in that moment, he was happy in an all-encompassing, wonderful way that he hadn’t been in a very long time.

Eventually, though, breakfast came to an end and Will’s family dispersed to do whatever it was they did to pass the time in the middle of summer. Will and Nico loitered in the dining room for a while, neither of them quite willing to break the pleasant, peaceful moment.

“I should probably go,” Nico said eventually, reluctant.

Wills’ cheek hollowed as he began to chew on the inside of it. “Oh, all right.”

Nico wanted to leave as little as Will wanted him to leave.

“Hazel is probably worried,” Nico offered, though he wasn’t entirely sure if he was trying to give himself or Will valid incentive to make Nico leave.

“Oh,” Will said again, visibly disappointed. “Probably.

There was a vaguely tense silence as Nico prepared to leave, intentionally dragging his feet to draw the process out. They stood at the door for a few moments, trying to delay the inevitable for just a little longer.

Nico meant to just say goodbye. He really did. But what came out of his mouth was, “Do you want to come with me?”

_God damn it._

Will blinked, clearly taken by surprise. Nico wanted to smack himself upside the head. “To… your house?”

 _Fuck it,_ Nico decided. He had already gone this far down the rabbit hole; he might as well dig himself a little deeper. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to. I’m not going to force you or anything.”

 _You’re rambling!_ Nico yelled at himself, mentally shaking himself. _Shut up!_ He snapped his jaw shut. Will giggled, and Nico began to seriously consider that he might actually di if his heart kept doing whatever the fuck it did every time Will laughed.

“I’d love to,” Will replied, his voice nearly as sweet as his smile.

_Yep. Definitely going to die._

It was only during the drive from Will’s house to Nico’s that Nico began to realize exactly how disastrous this idea could actually turn out to be. Will had never met Hazel, and God only knew how she’d react to him. What if, for once, Nico’s father was home. Or, God forbid, what if Will ran into Persephone?  Nico’s house was so very different from Will’s in the worst way possible. Maybe _too_ different. It was colder, and emptier, and angrier; it was a breeding place for apathy and depression and self-hatred and cynicism. It was the physical incarnation of every single thing Will was not. Hazel had been like Will, once – eternally bright and happy and optimistic. She still was that way, to an extent. But she had learned sarcasm and deceit as defense mechanisms, and her optimism had shriveled away under the pressure of the unrealistic expectations her father and Persephone had placed on her.

Nico would never be able to forgive himself if he stood by and allowed that to happen to Will, too.

 _It won’t,_ Nico told himself sternly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. _That took years, and Hazel was still grieving over her mother. They won’t do that to Will._

He wasn’t entirely convinced, but they had already arrived, so there was no more time for Nico to turn back or change his mind. Nico had to force himself out of the car.

Will whistled lowly as he looked up at Nico’s house. “Shit, man. I think your house is bigger than mine.”

Nico snorted, rifling through his key ring for his copy of the house key. “Yeah, but only four people live here.”

Will’s face twisted in confusion. “They why the big-ass mansion?”

Nico shrugged and kicked off his shoes. “Because my dad is a pretentious fuck who would rather show off his money than use it to further his society literally at all,” Nico muttered. He wasn’t sure if Will had heard or no, but if he had, he didn’t respond.

The house was silent, as per usual, but it seemed even more oppressive and gloomy after the loud joy of Will’s house. Nico was suddenly self-conscious. He stole a glance at Will. He seemed curious, but his expression seemed curiously muted. _See?_ Sniped the malicious little voice in Nico’s head. _It’s already happening. You’re already hurting him. You know you are. You knew that you’re incapable of being anything but destructive, and here’s the proof._ Nico shoved the thought away.

“C’mon,” he muttered, leading Will up the stairs. Before Nico had thought about what he was doing, he was pulling down the ladder to the attic. This impulsiveness bullshit was going to be the death of him.

Will followed Nico up the ladder curiously. Nico crouched down and locked the hatch from the inside once they were both up more to avoid Will’s reaction than out of any real necessity. Nico had never brought anyone up here, especially while there as an unfinished painting siting in the middle of the room. Luckily, it wasn’t anything particularly soul-baring the painting was just an attempt at realistic flowers. Irises, he realized now. He hadn’t thought about it when he’d started the painting, but he’d sketched out irises.

Irises had been Bianca’s favourite flower.

Nico swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his gaze to Will instead. He seemed almost awed as he slowly walked around the room, observing each of the finished pieces he came across carefully. Nico’s mouth was suddenly dry. It was almost laughable that he’d thought he had been self-conscious only a few minutes before when he was so very nervous now. Finally, Will paused by the painting of the irises and turned to Nico.

“Did you paint these?” Will asked quietly, gesturing vaguely at the rom.

Not entirely sure he was capable of forming words, Nico just nodded. Will didn’t seem to notice that Nico hadn’t responded verbally.

“Wow,” Will breathed, turning slowly on his heels to look at the room again. “They’re amazing, Nico.”

Nico was certain he was blushing now. It wasn’t that Nico hadn’t ever been complimented on his art; in fact, the ne time he’d taken an art class, he had gotten very little real constructive criticism because, for some reason, everyone else had decided that he didn’t need it. But those had been pencil sketches, or doodles in marker or charcoal, not paintings. His paintings had always been more personal, more of a coping method, than any of his other art. And, for some reason, the fact that this praise was coming specifically from _Will_ made it mean just that much more. Nico made a noncommittal noise, not really knowing how to respond to comments like that. His chest like it had been filled with something warm and soft. Nico kind of liked it.

“No, really,” Will insisted, clearly having misinterpreted Nico’s vague response as an awkward attempt at denial. “I mean it, Nico. These are fantastic.”

“Thanks,” Nico mumbled, scuffing his toes lightly against the floor.

There was silence for a moment, then Will stepped closer. “Hey, are you all right?” His voice had changed from amazement to concern.

“Yeah,” Nico replied, looking up from the floor and offering a smile as proof. “I just.. don’t bring that many people up here.”

Will’s expression softened. “Oh. Well, thank you for showing me.”

Nico had no response for that. They stood in awkward silence for a couple minutes, ad then Nico grabbed his paints and Will tugged an old three-legged stool out from beneath a pile of yellowing newspaper. He sat to the right of and a little behind Nico, eyes bright and curious and infuriatingly blue as Nico began to add colour to the tentative sketch of the irises. Will stayed silent, but Nico could feel Will’s eyes burning holes in his shoulder blades.

For almost half an hour, Nico painted as Will watched. At first, Nico was so self-conscious that his hand was actually shaking, which annoyed him a little. After a while, though, he began to lose himself in the canvas and the colours and all his anxieties melted away, just like they always did. Nico was still aware of Will’s gaze, but it wasn’t anxiety-inducing anymore. It wasn’t quite comfortable, but it wasn’t hindering Nico’s ability to paint, either, so he didn’t really care.

“These were her favourite flowers,” Nico blurted abruptly. “Bianca’s, I mean.”

He didn’t know why he’d said that. He didn’t _regret_ saying it, but he couldn’t remember making the active decision to tell Will that, either. Will sucked in a startled breath.

“Oh,” Will murmured after a few long seconds of silence. “They’re beautiful. She had good taste.”

Nico smiled to his canvas. He hadn’t really expected that response, but it was better than anything he could have come up with. It was true, too.

“Yeah,” Nico agreed quietly, adding a careful stroke of yellow to one of the petals. “She did. I never knew what to get her on her birthday, so I always just ended up giving her irises.”

Will didn’t reply. Nico didn’t say anything else. Again, there was a long stretch of silence, thought this time it was tinged with a tense, contemplative feeling. Nico could tell without even having to turn around that Will was thinking hard about something, but Nico didn’t press. He knew Will was approximately as good at Nico at opening up – which was terrible – but Nico also knew perfectly well that Will was trying to find another small piece of himself to give to Nico in exchange for the comment about the flowers. Nico didn’t expect the give-and-take aspect of this, but Nico also knew that Will found it easier to open up if he felt like he had an obligation to the other person to say something. So Nico just painted while Will thought.

It was nearly half an hour before Will finally spoke up. “I ran into my ex the other day. That’s what caused my… my relapse.”

Will’s voice was careful, controlled, his emotions kept on a tight leash. He was clearly trying to keep his tone light, but his voice was too thin for the act to be convincing.

“Oh,” Nico, his brush pausing for a moment mid-stroke. “Was it a bad break up?”

Will exhaled shakily. “You could say that,” he admitted quietly. “He… definitely wasn’t very happy with me for leaving.”

Nico’s heart did a poorly timed somersault when he realized Will’s ex was a guy. Nico ignored the giddy little jump in his pulse. _Now is not the time,_ he growled internally.

“Was he the possessive type?” Nico pressed tentatively.

Will laughed, but the sound was sad and entirely humourless. “Yeah. Possessive and manipulative and straight up abusive. You know, the typical evil ex.”

Nico’s hand stilled, the brush barely held away from the canvas. This was not a small thing Will was telling Nico. This was a huge thing, as much an admission of pain as an admission of trust. This wasn’t something Nico had expected in return for telling Will what Bianca’s favourite flowers had been. Suddenly, Nico felt like he had an inordinate amount of power over Will that Nico neither wanted nor thought he deserved. He needed to change that.

“I’m gay,” Nico blurted, closing his eyes as the immediate fear clutched at his chest and stole his breath. He’d never said those words out loud before, and hadn’t been prepared for how terrifying the silence between his words and Will’s response was.

“Oh,” Will said simply. “All right then. Are we doing some sort of secret trading thing? If that’s the case – I’m bi. That’s not really a secret, though. That might not count.”

Every ounce of tension immediately left Nico’s shoulders. “No secret trading,” he said with a slight laugh, setting his paintbrush down and then turning to Will. “I just thought…”

Nico’s thought process seemed silly and ridiculous to him, now, so he just trailed off and shrugged instead of finishing his sentence. Will seemed to understand, though, because he just nodded. Nico sat on the floor beside Will, smiling tentatively up at him. Aside from that initial jolt of fear, Nico felt _good,_ having given voice to the knowledge that had been ever so persistent in making itself known for the last few years. It was nice to have the part of himself he’d tried so hard to keep hidden for so long out in the open.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever told anyone that, you know,” Nico hummed, nudging Will’s leg with his shoulder.

A tiny wrinkle formed between Will’s eyebrows and Nico found himself fighting the urge to reach out and smooth it away with his thumb. “That you’re gay?”

Nico nodded. Will nodded back. “Thank you for telling me,” Will said softly. Nico just shrugged in response.

“I’m serious,” Will murmured, letting his hand rest lightly in Nico’s hair. Nico wanted to scream a little. “Thank you. I know how hard it can be to say stuff like that.”

“I trust you,” Nico replied quietly, slowly letting his head lean against Will’s thigh lightly. Nico’s heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest.

“Thank you,” Will said again.

They say like that for nearly an hour, turning their conversation to considerably lighter topics. Neither of them brought up any of what they’d discussed earlier, and Nico was glad for it. After a while, Nico drove Will home; it was easier to drive away than it would’ve been earlier. Nico wasn’t sure why, but he’d take it if it meant that ripping his own arm off and beating himself over the head with it was no longer the more favourable option.  

Nico expected to be exhausted when he got home for the second time that day. Usually, interacting with anyone for nearly twelve full hours would drain Nico of any and all energy, no matter how much he liked the person he spent that time around. And yet, to Nico’s surprise, he felt fine. Awake. Not at all like he wanted to sleep for the next hundred years. He smiled to himself. This he could get used to.

“Nico?”

Hazel was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at him with wide eyes and a puzzled expression. It took Nico a second to realize that she was so confused was because he was smiling. His good mood evaporated. He hadn’t thought that his smile had become such a rare thing that it would actually cause confusion. Apparently, he had been wrong.

“What’s up, Hazel?” he asked, letting his smile fall. She just blinked at him, still clearly thrown for a loop.

“I… was just wondering where you were,” Hazel replied after a beat, something almost dazed.

Annoyance sparked in Nico’s chest. He’d only _smiled,_ for Christ’s sake. It shouldn’t have stunned her this much. He was grieving and depressed, not broken. Nico spread his hands as if to say _Well, here I am._ Hazel nodded in response.

“You look happier,” Hazel said tentatively, leaning against the banister.

Nico shrugged. “Therapy is helping.”

Guilt flashed across Hazel’s expression, and Nico realized with a jolt that they’d never talked about it after that first argument. They’d barely talked at _all_ since then, actually.

“Look,” Hazel started, shifting her weight uneasily. “About that –”

“It’s fine.” Nico cut her off with a shake of her head. “I’m not angry with you or anything.”

“Really,” he insisted when her expression turned skeptical “It’s all right. I know why you did it.”

Hazel visibly relaxed ad relief washed over her face. Guiltily, Nico realized that he hadn’t even considered that she might be upset or remorseful at all about the entire situation.

“Well, I’m glad it’s working,” she said, offering Nico a slight smile that he returned.

“Yeah,” he hummed. “Me too.”

She headed to the kitchen, so Nico took it as a sign that the conversation was over and headed upstairs, fully intending to go back up to the attic. The hatch was still unlocked, and he smiled a little when he caught sight of the stool still sitting in the middle of the room. Nico had always thought that bringing someone up here, into the only place he had any real privacy, would ruin it for him. He’d been wrong. Maybe it was just because it had been Will, but if anything, the attic only felt like even more of a safe haven to Nico than it had before.

The painting of the irises still wasn’t finished, so Nico decided he’d do that first. Once he had, Nico immediately brought out another canvas. He decided to paint more flowers; they had always been one of his favourite things to paint because he could play with the colouring as much as he really wanted and they would still be recognizable, so long as he stuck to the general shape. Without thinking about it, Nico grabbed a pencil and did a loose sketch of the first flower that came to mind. When he stepped back to look at it, he realized he’d drawn Peruvian lilies and smiled ruefully to himself. Bianca had always loved flowers, and she had constantly been explaining meanings of the bouquets she saw in store windows. Nico hadn’t retained a lot of what she’d told him, but he remembered these flowers. Peruvian lilies symbolized friendship, devotion, and mutual support. Nico shook his head to himself and turned to his paints. He didn’t even pretend to consider what colour he’d use. He already knew they were going to be yellow.

The next time Nico stepped back to take a long look at his progress, he had finished at it was nearly midnight. He’d been painting for nearly eight hours, he realized with vague surprise. He set his phone down again and turned back to his painting. It hadn’t turned out half-bad, for having been so spur-of-the-moment and driven less by reference and more by his own gut instincts. He rather liked it.

On a whim, he sent it to Will. Nico’s phone chirped when the response arrived, but Nico was elbow deep in paint water and dirty paintbrushes, so he ignored it. Nico finished cleaning up and left the attic, locking the hatch behind him. It was only once Nico had changed into pajamas and crawled into bed that he checked his phone.

 

**_From: Will_ **

**_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_ **

**_theyre so pretty!!!!!!!!_ **

****

            Nico laughed a little at the excess use of exclamation points.

 

**_To: Will._ **

**_thanks_ **

 

**_From: Will_ **

**_what kind of flower are they?_ **

****

**_To: Will_ **

**_Peruvian lilies_ **

**_yellow ones_ **

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_i knew that u dork_ **

**_i have eyes_ **

****

**_To: Will_ **

**_lmao just making sure_ **

****

            Nico rolled his eyes and then closed them, sighing contentedly. He hadn’t realized that he’d wanted this sort of close, comfortable friendship until he had it, but now he thought he might fall apart entirely if he lost it. There was a constant feeling of warm happiness that resided in Nico’s chest, and he curled close around it now, like he had done to his teddy bear when he was little. It was a comfort and a safety net and a reminder of happiness, just like the old toy, and Nico would be damned if he ever denied that he didn’t enjoy it more than he ever thought he would. After a minute or two, another text came through, making Nico startle when his phone buzzed against his ribs. It wasn’t Will this time, thought, and Nico’s heart curled up and died when he saw who it really was.

 

**_From: Percy_ **

**_hey man are you alive?_ **

**_we haven’t heard from you in a while and we’re getting worried :/_ **

**_i get it if you don’t want to talk but like… at least say something?_ **

            Nico couldn’t breathe. He had made a lot of progress in the last month and a half, but he was so very definitively not ready to handle this situation. Nico and Percy hadn’t talked to Percy since Bianca had died, and seeing his name brought back a wave of entirely unwanted emotions down on Nico’s head with a force that terrified him.

            Will’s response came through. Nico ignored Percy’s text in favour of focusing on Will’s. the text was just a screenshot of a Google search – ‘Peruvian lily meaning.’ Nico stifled a giggle against the back of his hand, the tightness in his chest easing away slowly. He could breathe again, which was certainly a good thing.

 

**_From: Will_ **

**_??????????????_ **

**_? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?_ **

**_nico did u do this in purpose????_ **

****

**_To: Will_ **

**_maybe_ ** **_:) :)_ **

**_ill never tell :p_ **

****

            While he waited for Will’s next response, Nico considered what the hell he was going to do with Percy’s text. He could delete it, pretend that it hadn’t come through or that he hadn’t seen it. Or he could reply. Nico knew he should reply. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to, in all honesty. Nico sighed and did it anyway. He just hoped Percy didn’t take this as an invitation to have a real conversation. Nico really _would_ start ignoring Percy then.

 

**_To: Percy_ **

**_I’m fine._ **

 

            Nico knew he sounded cold and angry and harsh and he knew he was being childish about this entire thing. But, to tell the truth, he really was a little angry. Percy had been the one who had introduced Bianca to the idea of joining the military in the first place. If it wasn’t for Percy, Bianca probably would never have even thought of it. She would have gone to college a few miles away and come home on the weekends and she would still be alive. Nico would still be bringing her irises to her on her birthday instead of to her grave. So, yeah, maybe Nico was a little pissed off. He knew that blaming Percy was stupid and immature, but he could afford to be stupid and immature for a while longer.

 

**_From: Percy_ **

**_I’m glad :)_ **

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_u sap_ **

****

            And just like that, Nico was smiling again. He left Percy on read. Was it petty? Yes. He didn’t care. It was a ridiculous little thing, but it made Nico feel a little less like slapping Percy upside the head.

 

**_To: Will_ **

**_indeed i am thank you for noticing_ **

 

**_From: WIll_   
**

**_np sunshine :)_ **


	4. Chapter 4

 

Summer was over far too quickly, in Nico’s opinion. His alarm went off much too early for his liking and he seriously considered throwing it against a wall and going back to sleep. It was the first day of class; they probably weren’t going to do anything all that important, anyway, and therefore it didn’t matter if he skipped school.

He fully intended to do so, too, but then his phone began to buzz frantically from its place on his dresser and someone – probably Hazel, started to pound on his door. Nico groaned into his pillow and then only reluctantly left the warm cocoons of blankets he had been wrapped in, sighing regretfully. He opened his bedroom door, arching one vaguely irritated eyebrow at Hazel.

“Oh, good, you’re up!” She chirped in a far too chipper done of voice for so early in the morning. “If you had slept in any later, you would have been late to school.”

“And what a tragedy _that_ would have been,” Nico grumbled, hiding a yawn behind the back of his hand.

Hazel just giggled and practically skipped down the stairs. Nico rolled his eyes, though there was a fond smile curling the corners of his mouth upward. She had always lobed school, probably because she had been home schooled for most of her life, which had been absolute hell for someone who was as much of a social butterfly as Hazel. Nico, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. It wasn’t the classes he minded so much as the forced interactions that were too often required due to group projects and graded in-class discussions. People made Nico tired, and unfortunately, high school was full of them.

He shut the door and patted over to his dresser to grab his phone. Nico wasn’t even remotely surprised to find out that Will was the reason it had been trying so hard to explode earlier.

 

**_From: Will_ **

**_nico!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_ **

**_nico it’s the first day of school u should be up by now_ **

**_nicoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_ **

**_oh cmon sunshine_ **

****

**_To: Will_ **

**_it is six in the morning how do you have so much energy already_ **

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_it’s a school day!!!!!!_ **

**_also ive already had two redbulls_ **

****

Nico snorted.

 

**_To: Will_ **

**_that shit is gonna kill you someday you know that right_ **

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_says mr i drink three pots of coffee every day bc i never sleep_ **

**_To: Will_ **

**_excuse you_ **

**_i haven’t had any coffee at all yet today_ **

****

            Nico forced himself to ignore his phone until he had gotten dressed, eaten, and packed himself a lunch. He finally let himself look at it was he was waiting for the coffee pot to finish brewing.

 

**_From: Will_ **

**_‘yet’ being the operative word there_ **

**_nico_ **

**_nicoooo u disappeared again_ **

**_i bet ur getting coffee arent u_ **

**_u totally are_ **

**_the bean water has made u its bitch_ **

****

            Trying and failing to suppress a grin, Nico filled his thermos with coffee and then took a picture of it. He sent it to Will, who replied barely thirty seconds later. Nico snickered again.

 

**_From: Will_ **

**_i knew it!!!!!!_ **

**_at least redbull isnt a literal drug_ **

**_also redbull comes in flavours other than ass_ **

****

**_To: Will_ **

**_i don’t want to know how you would know what ass tastes like_ **

**_and no redbull tastes like dog shit_ **

**_and at least coffee is from a plant and not a test tube_ **

****

**_From: Will_ **

**_hugs not drugs nico_ **

****

“Nico!” Hazel called from the front door. “If you’re not out here in the next thirty seconds I’m leaving you here and you can walk to school.”

“If you leave me here I’m not going to school,” Nico called back.

He grabbed his backpack and the thermos of coffee anyway, grimacing a little. The drive to the school was entirely uneventful, punctuated by Hazel humming along to the radio and texts from Will. Nico kept his head down and his eyes on the floor when he and Hazel separated to go to their respective lockers and classes. If Nico was lucky, he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone until he got to class at the earliest. He made a mental not to make sure he brought his headphones with him the next day. He’d forgotten how loud the hallways were when classes weren’t in session.

Unfortunately for him, Nico was not lucky. A heavy arm draped itself around Nico’s shoulders and he flinched, taken completely by surprise.

“What the _fuck?”_ Nico growled, pulling away and whirling on his heel to give whoever the fuck had decided that sneaking up on him this early in the goddamn morning was a good idea his best death glare.

Percy Jackson laughed and held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Easy, there. Clearly summer break didn’t calm down your temper any.”

Nico could feel his eye beginning to twitch. Percy was still both obnoxiously loud and obnoxiously attractive, and the summer tan that he was sporting certainly wasn’t helping any. Nico thought he preferred freckles, though.

As if summoned by Nico’s thoughts, another arm was slung over Nico’s shoulders. A burst of annoyance fizzled through him – _why was everyone so intent on touching him today?_ – but it evaporated almost immediately. There was no mistaking the multicoloured wristbands that covered this arm, and Nico had learned months ago that it was impossible to be annoyed with its owner for long.

“Hi, Will,” Nico said, resisting the urge to lean back into Will.

Percy was gaping at them, his stupidly pretty eyes wide and his jaw practically on the floor. Nico arched an eyebrow. “What’s your issue?”

“You’re not killing him!” Percy sputtered. “Why can _he_ do that without ripping his throat out?”

“Because he’s not an asshole who insists on scaring the shit out of me when he does,” Nico replied dryly. Will laughed and leaned his cheek against the top of Nico’s head.

Percy pouted and clutched theatrically at his chest. “You wound me,” he whined.

“Then suffer,” Nico said without missing a beat, turning back down the hall. “See you later, Percy.”

He and Will walked away. For once, Nico was glad for the crowded halls. Will’s confusion and concern were hovering in almost tangible clouds around him, but for the moment, Nico ignored them. He didn’t stop until he got to his locker, which he immediately shoved his textbooks into. It was the first day; there was no way they’d be using the textbooks and he didn’t want to be lugging the damn things around with him all day. Nico shut his locker with considerably more force that was strictly necessary, and Will set a hand lightly on Nico’s shoulder.

“Are you all right?” Will asked in a voice low enough to ensure that Nico would be the only one able to hear it.

Nico sighed and closed his eyes, letting his forehead rest against the cold metal of his locker. “I’m fine, he replied just as quietly.”

“Was that guy back there bothering you?”

Nico laughed lightly and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. Percy and I have been friends for years. It’s just…” Nico sighed again. “He’s the one who convinced Bianca to go into the military to begin with, and I just – it’s hard to be around him, sometimes.”

Will made a sympathetic noise and looped his arm around Nico’s shoulder again. “That make sense. I’d be pretty upset with him, too, honestly.”

Not sure how else to respond, Nico just smile dup at Will, hoping the expression conveyed enough of his gratitude for Will to pick up on it. If the smile Will gave Nico in return was any indication, it had done at least halfway decently.

Senior year, Nico found, was shockingly dull, much the same as every year of high school Nico had lived through had been. The classes and some of the teachers changed, sure, but a lot of the students didn’t, and the tedium was sure as hell a constant. By the end of his third class, Nico was thoroughly ready for lunch, if only for some sort of break from being forced to listen to middle-aged white people drone on for hours about shit he didn’t give a single flying fuck about. The only class Nico was even half looking forward to was his art class, but that was at the end of the day, so he still had to suffer through two more classes before he got to a semi decent one. It was entirely possible he would end up punching one of the fucking idiots in one of his other classes before the day ended. It didn’t help that Nico had drained his thermos by the end of second period, leaving him with depressingly little caffeine in his system. What coffee he had gotten had done very little to ease his irritable exhaustion. Maybe Will was on to something with the Redbull, even if it was disgusting. Maybe mixing a Redbull with his coffee would mask the taste.

To Nico’s complete and utter surprise, Will was waiting outside Nico’s classroom just before lunch. Nico certainly hadn’t expected _this._ Why would he have? Not even Hazel had ever waited outside Nico’s class for him. Then again, Will wasn’t at all like any of Nico’s other friends. He never had been. Not that Nico was complaining.

“What are you doing?” Nico asked, wincing internally at how harsh the question had sounded.

Will didn’t seem to notice, though; or, if he did, he didn’t make any comment. “Waiting for you,” he chirped in response.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t know where we were eating lunch.”

 _We._ Nico didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing that word applied to himself and Will.

“Oh,” Nico said lamely.

Will laughed, and then went perfectly still, the smile siding slowly from his face. He wasn’t looking at Nico anymore, but something over his shoulder. Nico turned, scanning the flood of people streaming out of and into the classrooms lining the hall. He tried to follow Will’s gaze, but there were just too many people to tell which one of them Will was looking at.

A boy stepped out of the rush of students and made his way toward Will and Nico. All the blood drained from Will’s face, leaving him almost disturbingly pale and looking absolutely terrified. Without thinking about it, Nico stepped between will and the other boy. Nico couldn’t hide Will from view entirely because he was so ridiculously tall, but Nico could sure as fuck try. Whoever this kid was, he visibly frightened Will, and that was more than enough incentive for Nico to dislike him.

“Hey, Will,” the other boy said, ignoring Nico entirely. Nico dubbed the kid ‘Douchewaffle’ in his head.

“Ian,” Will replied tensely. Douchewaffle smiled.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Ian continued, continuing to disregard Nico’s presence and not even bothering to acknowledge that Will had spoken at all. “You ran off so quickly last time we saw each other and you haven’t been responding to my texts or my calls, so I was worried you were hurt or something.”

“I haven’t been responding to you because I blocked your number.” Will’s voice was breathy and shaking like a leaf, but he was obviously trying to sound more confident than he was.

Ian look surprised, but it seemed fake. Everything about him felt like a practiced façade to Nico. “Oh. Why? I thought we cut things off on friendly terms.”

Realization hid Nico upside the head with a sledgehammer. This was Will’s abusive piece of shit ex. Hatred began to scorch its way through Nico’s veins.

“You threatened to kill yourself if I left,” Will said incredulously, “And then when I started walking out anyway, you tried to hit me.”

Ian shrugged. “Well, it isn’t like I expected you to be so selfish and heartless that you were willing to let me die.”

Will made a strangled, wounded noise, and Nico saw red. Something inside him snapped, and the next thing he knew, his knuckles were on fire and Ian was clutching his cheek. This time, the fucker’s surprise was real.

“What the _hell,_ man?” Ian asked, his voice a high, pitiful squeal. People were starting to stare and gawk. Nico didn’t care.

“Don’t you _dare_ blame Will for your manipulative bullshit,” Nico hissed, his voice angrier than he’d ever heard it, low and guttural and unforgiving. Nico was actually shaking with the force of his rage. He wanted to punch Ian again. “And don’t you _ever_ call him selfish or heartless. The only time someone like you can spew that sort of bullshit is if you’re looking in a fucking mirror.”

Nico snarled and grabbed Will by the hand, storming off before Nico could give in and punch Ian again. Will trailed behind, eerily silent, his fingers curled almost painfully around Nico’s. Nico just tightened his own grip a little in response. He didn’t stop or even slow down until they were all the way across the building.

When Nico turned to look at Will, every ounce of anger drained from Nico’s body. Will was still wide-eyed and pale, and he was visibly trembling. Concern replaced every ounce of Nico’s rage in a heartbeat.

“Hey,” Nico murmured, stepping a little closer to Will. In the back of Nico’s mind, he realized that he was still holding Will’s hand. He didn’t let go. “Are you okay?”

Will swallowed and shook his head. Nico glanced around, then tugged Will into a nearby bathroom. Luckily, it was empty. Nico shoved a doorstop beneath the door to keep it shut and Will slid to the floor, curling his legs up against his chest. Nico knelt in front of Will, hating the helplessness that came with this already awful situation.

“What do you need?” Nico asked as gently as he physically could, wishing there was more he could do as he watched Will’s breathing speed up to the point that he was practically hyperventilating.

“I don’t know,” Will gasped. “He – I –”

“I know,” Nico replied, doing his best to keep his voice as close to soothing as he could manage. “And he was wrong. Every single word out of his mouth was bullshit.”

Will made a choked noise that Nico thought might have been an attempt at a laugh, and then Will buried his head in his arms. Nico clenched his jaw and then sighed slowly.

“I mean it,” Nico murmured, gently running his fingers through Will’s hair. “Everything that bastard said was a lie. He’s nothing but an abusive, useless waste of human life. He’s a piece of shit, okay? Nothing more.”

Will sniffled and started shaking harder. After a moment, with no warning, Will lurched forward into Nico. It took Nico a moment to realize that he was being hugged; Will was outright sobbing now, his tears muffled by Nico’s shoulder. For a moment Nico just sat there dumbly, and then he remembered that he was supposed to actually react to gestures like that and tentatively curled his arms around Will’s shoulders.

Nico had no idea how long they sat on the rather disgusting bathroom floor, but the bell hadn’t rung yet, so he did know that it hadn’t been the entirety of their lunch period, at the very least. Eventually, Will pulled away, wiping at his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.  “I didn’t mean to break down like that.”

Nico shook his head. “It’s fine, Will. I get it. Are you okay now?”

Will sniffled and nodded, flashing Nico a tremulous smile. “Yeah. Sorry for crying all over your shoulder.”

Nico shrugged, returning Will’s smile. “It’s no big deal. I’m glad you feel better.”

Will smiled again, his eyes almost unbearably soft. Nico very much wanted to kiss Will, but shook the thought out of his head. _Not the time. Absolutely not the time._

They ended up eating behind the school, sitting close enough together that if Nico shifted even slightly, his thigh pressed up against Will’s. When the bell rang, Will hugged Nico and thanked him again. Nico pretended he didn’t notice the way Will’s hands lingered a little longer than was strictly necessary on Nico’s arms. _It doesn’t mean anything,_ he told himself sternly. _It’s just because he’s shaken up after running into his asshole ex. Will is a very tactile person, and it’s just for comfort. Nothing more._

He spent the entirety of his last three classes trying to convince himself that his logic was more correct than his emotions and doodling little flowers and constellations in the margins of his notebook. It wasn’t very effective, but Nico tried anyway, because he’d drive himself up the wall trying to figure out what it had meant unless he was telling himself it meant absolutely nothing at all.

At the end of the day, Will was waiting outside of Nico’s class again, looking considerably more nervous than he had earlier. Concern immediately flooded through Nico.

“Are you all right?” Nico asked tentatively after a moment.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Will replied, laughing nervously. “Why do you ask?” His voice was too pitchy and anxious for the lie to be anything but obvious and entirely unconvincing.

“You sound kind of freaked out. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Again with the unnatural, high-pitched laugh. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for worrying, Sunshine.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I am not a sunshine-y enough person to warrant the use of that nickname?” Nico grumbled, letting the topic of Will’s visible anxiety slide for the moment. Forcing Will to talk about it would do absolutely no good.

This time when Will laughed, it was real, if a little sharp around the edges with nerves. “I knew, I know. Let me guess; now you’re going to tell me that _I’m_ the sunshine  between the two of us, so it should be my nickname instead.”

“Astonishing,” Nico said in the driest, most unimpressed voice he could muster. “You read my mind. I had no idea my vest fried was a psychic.”

Will snickered. “Or you’ve just used the same argument every time we’ve had this discussion for the last three months.”

Nico shrugged. “I can’t help the truth, Sunshine.”

“But it isn’t the truth! You’re very sunshine-y.”

“Your other nickname for me is ‘Death Boy,’ Solace. I hardly think that ‘Death Boy’ and ‘Sunshine’ are mutually inclusive.”

“They aren’t mutually _exclusive_ either, though,” Will shot back with a badly-faked pout.

“They imply completely opposite things!” Nico protested. “You make me sound like a walking oxymoron.”

“Humans are full of contradictions and oxymorons,” Will replied primly. “My nicknames are perfectly in line with human nature.”

“Getting philosophical now?”

“Will you let me win if I do?”

“No, I’m not going to let you lie to yourself because you pull out some big, fancy words. Not a chance.”

“Then only briefly, you absolute kill-joy.”

Nico snorted and rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Sunshine.”

Will laughed. Nico’s internal screaming started back up.

Nico drove Hazel home, then headed to Will’s house after dropping his backpack off with Hazel. Technically, their excuse for hanging out was that they were going to be studying, but it was the first day of school What the fuck were they supposed to study? They didn’t even have homework yet. Nico knew perfectly well that he and Will would probably end up either playing video games or napping, just like they had done for the majority of summer vacation.

Laila answered when Nico knocked on the door. She grinned and squealed, then immediately jumped at him. He stumbled backward, trying to catch her and avoid tripping down the stairs at the same time.

“Nico! You’re back!” She crowed.

Nico laughed, adjusting his hold on her so it didn’t feel like his arms were going to be ripped out of their sockets. He had never figured out how little kids were always so much heavier than they looked. It had to be all that excess energy. “You saw me on Saturday, Laila.”

“But that was two days ago,” Laila whined dramatically, throwing her arms out and only narrowly avoiding backhanding Nico hard across the face.

“A whole two days,” Nico laughed, stepping into the house and then nudging the door shut behind him with his hip. “Because that’s such a long time.”

“It _is_ a long time,” she agreed with a solemn nod.

Nico just snickered again and set her down. “Do you know where Will is?”

“Will is in his room,” Laila replied, pouting a little and crossing her arms across her chest. “He’s been in there since he got home. He wouldn’t even play with me.”

Worry began to creep into Nico’s lungs. It wasn’t like Will to ignore his siblings in favour of hiding in his bedroom for hours on end. That was Nico’s trick, not Will’s. Between that and Will’s unexplained anxiety earlier, Nico was beginning to think something was seriously wrong. Had the run-in with Ian been that damaging to Will’s mental health? Was there something else going on? Had Nico done something that made Will upset or uncomfortable that he wasn’t aware of? Was that why Will wasn’t talking to Nico about it? What if Will was upset and Nico couldn’t help because he was the cause? What if it meant that Will didn’t want to talk to him anymore?

Nico forced himself to focus. His anxiety could wait; if Will was upset and there was a way that Nico could help, then that was his priority at the moment. He made his way up the stairs and found that the door to Will’s room was already open. Inside, Will was pacing and wringing his hands so hard that they were visibly red, even from a distance. Now Nico really was worried. He tapped his knuckles against the door frame and Will jumped, clearly started, and whirled around. He visibly relaxed when he realized that it was just Nico.

“Nico,” Will said breathily, pressing a hand to his chest. “You scared me. Don’t sneak up on people like that! You’re going to give someone a heart attack one of these days.”

“I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you,” Nico replied with a laugh. “You just weren’t paying attention and didn’t hear me walking up the stairs and hitting every creaky floorboard on the way up.”

Will smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, all right. That’s fair.”

For a moment, Nico just stood there, trying to tell if he could figure out what would help Will without the awkward conversation. Will seemed paler than usual, though Nico couldn’t tell if that was from running into Ian or something else, and he was still wringing his hands. The skin around Will’s eyes was tight with stress. He had taken all his wristbands off his arms, and Nico could see that the skin on will’s wrists looked red and raw. With two quick steps forward, Nico was close enough to grab Will’s hands and tug them apart. Will made a startled noise.

“Hey, stop that,” Nico said, gently squeezing Will’s hands. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I wasn’t,” Will protested weakly.

“Bullshit. What’s going on, Will?”

Sighing, Will sat down heavily on his bed. Nico did the same, taking tie opportunity to glance as subtly as he could manage at Will’s arms. Luckily, it didn’t look like there were any new cuts; it seemed like the worst Will had done was scratch at the scars. Still not a good thing, but it definitely could have been worse.

“Is this about earlier?” Nico asked.

Will shook his head. “No. Well, yeah, sort of, but  it’s not about Ian.”

“Then what _is_ it about? You’re worrying me, Will. Please talk to me. Or don’t, but at least let me know that you’re going to be okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” Will assured Nico. “And it isn’t that something is _wrong,_ per se. I’m just… nervous, I guess.”

“About what?” Nico pressed gently.

Will smiled weakly and turned his eyes to the floor. Nico gave Will time and silence to think through whatever he needed to, though Nico did reach over and grab Will’s hand again when he started twisting his fingers together anxiously. For a few long moments, Will was silent.

“I have something I want to talk to you about,” Will finally said after taking a slow, shaky breath.

“All right,” Nico hummed with a nod. “What’s the matter.”

Will began to gnaw on his lower lip. It took all of Nico’s willpower and self-control to keep from reaching out and tugging Will’s lip from between his teeth.

“I think I have a thing for…” Will faltered. “someone.”

Nico’s heart stuttered and then fell. He ignored his vague disappointment and nodded. “Okay. And what about that is making you so nervous? You’re not thinking of going back to Ian, are you?”

That got Will to laugh. “Oh, God, no. That asshole could come crawling to me and beg on his hands and knees and I still wouldn’t get back with him.”

“Good,” Nico replied with what he hoped was a somewhat realistic imitation of a smile. “So what’s the issue, then?”

Will’s smile evaporated and his lip disappeared between his teeth again. He was going to make himself bleed if he kept that up, Nico thought worriedly.

“Well… I want to tell them,” Will admitted, “but I’m not sure how.”

“Oh,” Nico replied dumbly. “I, uh, might not be the best person to ask about this. I’ve never dated before.”

A muscle in Will’s cheek twitched as if he were holding back a smile. “That’s fine. Just – what would you want a guy to do if he was going to ask you out?”

Nico had to pause and think about that for a few seconds. He had never been asked that by anyone before, and he certainly had never found that question wandering into his train of thought on his own. He had always just sort of assumed that either he would be oblivious and some guy would ask him on a date completely out of the blue or that he would be the one doing the asking. Either that, or it would just never happen at all.

“Well… I guess I would just want him to be straightforward with it. Just say it; get it out there and be done with it, you know? None of the big, public, showy shit. I don’t think I would want something like that broadcast to a bunch of strangers, if that makes any sense,” Nico said slowly.

Will nodded, then looked Nico directly in the eyes and said, “Nico, do you want to go out with me?”

Nico almost choked on air as his heart fell head first off of a proverbial cliff. He knew it was probably just practice, that Will was just using Nico as a stand-in for whoever Will was crushing on for a moment, that the question held no real meaning or weight, but Nico’s dumbass, oblivious emotions were still careening into each other like a bunch of kindergartners on a sugar high and shrieking in unprovoked and entirely baseless joy.

“Yeah, just like that,” Nico croaked after a second. “Just ask them like that and there’s n way they could misinterpret it.”

Will blinked, his face going blank. He stared at Nico in silence for a long time, to the point that Nico began to get intensely uncomfortable with the eye contact. He dropped his gaze to the floor, wondering what he’d done wrong and when and how the fuck the atmosphere in the room had gotten so oppressively awkward.

And then, out of absolutely nowhere, Will started to laugh. It was an incredulous sound, a little amazed and a little bit resigned, and it confused the hell out of Nico. What was there for Will to laugh about? Nico didn’t look up to see if there were any clues on Will’s face, though; the carpet had suddenly become very interesting. Nico decided that he was going to see if he could count the number of threads in the carpet. He tried to tune out Will’s laughter, not wanting to lose count.

Will’s palm, warm and gentle and a bit tentative, reached out and cupped Nico’s cheek. Every substantial thought in Nico’s head evaporated into something light and warm in an instant. He lost count of the threads, but couldn’t really find it in himself to care. Nico let Will turn his head so they were eye to eye again, and Nico quickly realized that he would happily let himself drown in Will’s eyes if he was given the chance. Nico wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about this, but that thought dissipated, too.

“You, Nico di Angelo, are simultaneously the most attractive and the most oblivious boy I have ever met in my entire life,” Will said softly, his expression practically glowing with humour.

 _Oh._ Nico felt like an absolute idiot all of a sudden. He should have realized. Why hadn’t he realized? _God, I can be such a dumbass sometimes._ Luckily, Will was patient and didn’t seem to mind the fact that Nico couldn’t take even the most blatant of hints.

“Oh,” Nico croaked. His vocabulary seemed to have been reduced to almost nothing, much to his annoyance.

Will laughed and leaned his forehead gently against Nico’s. He never once broke eye contact. Nico thought he might very well melt. Either that, or this was all a very nice dream and Nico was going to wake up in approximately half a second because his mind hated him.

“Can I kiss you?” Will asked, his voice so soft and breathy and fragile that it barely even qualified as a whisper. Nico could hear it, though. They were so close that it would have been impossible for him to _not_ have heard it.

“Yes. Please do,” Nico replied just as quietly. His hands were shaking a little, but his voice was not.

Will complied happily.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who actually updated before 11 at night for once

When Nico finally got home it was almost five o’clock and he could have sworn he was floating at least an inch above the ground. He still could barely believe that the day hadn’t been nothing but a very long, very elaborate dream. It certainly felt like a dream. Not only had Nico gotten to punch Will’s ex, which had felt absolutely fantastic, he’d also gotten to kiss and be kissed by Will. _That_ was the part that had Nico halfway convinced that the day had been something he was about to wake from. It seemed impossible that Will Solace, certified ray of sunshine and one of the most genuinely _good_ people Nico had ever known, would want to date someone as gloomy and perpetually exhausted as Nico was almost beyond the scope of Nico’s imagination. But the lingering warmth of Will’s lips against Nico’s reminded him that it _was_ real and that Nico was quite possibly one of the luckiest people on the planet at the moment. Of all the people in the world Will could have wanted to ask out, he had chosen _Nico._ It felt like a miracle. Nico had to glance down at his feet to make sure he wasn’t actually floating. He knew he should probably be at least a little bit worried by the fact that he was so disconnected from his body that he couldn’t tell, but he had just been _kissed_ by _Will Solace._ Some trouble coming down from cloud nine was to be expected.

Nico looked up and found his father staring expectantly at him. With a chill, Nico realized that it almost looked like his father had been waiting for him. Although Nico’s father’s name was technically Damien, his cold demeanor and ruthless attacks in court had earned him the nickname Lucifer around the law firm he worked for. Nico agreed, to some extent, but he thought that maybe Hades was a more fitting name for his father. Damien was cold and aloof and could be cruel at times, but Nico knew his father tried to be as fair as he could. Still, Damien was a little intimidating. Nico rarely saw his father, but when he did it was because Damien was either delivering bad news or letting his children know he was taking yet another business trip. Since Hazel was at her friend’s house for a girl’s night or something to that effect and therefore unable to hear whatever announcement Damien was about to make, Nico doubted it was the latter.

So much  for being lucky.

“Dad,” Nico said, entirely incapable of hiding his surprise.

“Nico,” Damien replied. His voice was emotionless. Nico wondered if launching himself head first out of a window would get him out of this conversation. “Would you come to my office? We need to talk.”

Bile rose in Nico’s throat. He tried desperately not to think about the last time those words had come out of his father’s mouth. He remembered very little of that conversation due to the fact that he’d spent most of it staring blankly at Bianca’s dog tags, which had been sitting on his father’s desk, but Nico had registered tiny snippets of what his father had said. _Missing in action. Presumed dead. Left her tags in her bunk with a note. Defied orders. Saved lives._

Nico felt like the walls were going to close in on him at any second as he followed his father down the hall. Damien’s office was small and sparsely decorated, unlike the rest of he house, and Nico hated it with every fiber of his being. This was the room where some of the worse conversations of Nico’s life had taken place. _You and your sister are going to be living here from now on, Nico. Bianca has decided to join the military, Nico. Your sister is being deployed in a week, Nico. Bianca is dead, Nico._ He could only imagine what hellish news he’d get today. When his father gestured for him to sit, Nico complied, unease rippling through him. His father remained standing. _Oh, great; he’s pulling out the subtle power dynamic bullshit right off the bat. Wonderful._

“You seem happier,” Damien said after a pause. Nico blinked.

“I am,” Nico replied slowly. It was the truth, but he wasn’t entirely sure where this conversation was going and it made him nervous.

“The therapy has worked, then?”

“Yes.” It came out sounding more like a question than the statement it was.

“Good,” his father replied, turning to look out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. Nico was suddenly struck by how much his father looked like an evil, angsty business man from one of those anti-corporation movies where the men in suits were always the bad guys. It was a surprisingly accurate description of his father, Nico thought with a barely-restrained snicker. “Then it won’t be an issue if we cancel any further appointments?”

Any and all levity evaporated and Nico froze. _“What?”_ he asked incredulously.

“If the therapist has done her job thus far, then continued appointments are unnecessary.”

If Nico had been alone, he would have burst into tears, but he refused to cry in front of his father. He wouldn’t humiliate himself like that right now. Instead, Nico clenched his jaw, drew in a sharp breath through his nose, and steeled himself.

“They are necessary,” “Nico said quietly. “They’re helping, dad. I’m not – Just because I’m feeling better doesn’t mean I’m ‘fixed’ or whatever. It just means that I’m _getting_ there. Taking me out of therapy would hurt me more than it would help me at this point.”

For a long moment, Damien stared at his son, his gaze cold and unreadable as always. Nico felt like he was either going to suffocate or burst into tears. His father looked away after a few painfully long seconds. Nico could breathe again, but he still very much wanted to cry.

“I will take that into account,” Damien replied stiffly.

He turned back to the window, which Nico decided to take as a dismissal. Nico stood and only barely managed to keep from slamming the door. He knew he should feel angry, or indignant at the very least, but mostly he just felt numb. In all honesty, Nico was disappointed in himself for not expecting something like this to happen. It was always this way. Things would get marginally better and Nico would start to feel okay again, and then something else happened and he ended up right back at square one. He finally began to get past his mother’s death and Bianca joined the military. Nico began to adjust to Bianca’s absence and she died. He started to move past that and he was kissed by Will Solace, so his father decided to cancel his therapy and make it a hundred times harder for Nico to make any more forward progress. He should have _known._ Happiness like this always came with a price in Nico’s life.

Nico spent the rest of the day lying in bed and hating himself for it.

The rest of the week passed in a blur of impending doom and internal screaming. Will asked a few times if Nico was okay, but he just smiled and assured Will that everything was perfectly fine. That answer was a lie every time Nico gave it, but Will didn’t deserve to be unwittingly dragged into any more of Nico’s issues than he already had been.

Saturday dawned bleak and grey. Nico knew without even having to open his eyes that he had slumped back into yet another depressive episode. He was tired in a heavy, bone-deep, suffocating way he had become all too familiar with in the last few years. Self-loathing had settled into his bones deeper than the exhaustion, to the point that it was almost physically painful. Nico sighed and rolled over, wrapping his blankets a little tighter around himself.

He didn’t bother trying to keep track of time, so Nico had no idea how long he had laid there, wishing he could just quietly slip out of existence. He vaguely registered the rather panicked buzzing of is phone, but Nico was incapable of dragging himself out of his hellish limbo for long enough to force himself to check it. He just curled further in on himself and ignored it. Maybe they would forget he existed if he didn’t answer for long enough. Maybe if he wished hard enough, he would fall asleep. Or his heart would just spontaneously stop beating. Either way, Nico wouldn’t bitch about the outcome.

Eventually, there was a knock at his bedroom door. Nico whimpered weakly. He didn’t want to deal with Hazel right know. He simply didn’t have the energy to face her ceaseless, unintentionally overbearing concern.

“Go away,” he croaked.

The door creaked open anyway. Nico shoved his face into his pillow with a sound that was half a sigh and half a sob. There was a soft, worried breath and then the foot of Nico’s bed dipped as it was sat on.

“I told you to go _away,_ Hazel.” Nico said tiredly into his pillow.

The laugh that answered definitely wasn’t Hazel’s, nor was the voice. “Good thing Hazel isn’t here, then, Sunshine.”

Nico froze. What was Will doing here? Had Hazel let him in? Oh, God. Nico didn’t want Will to see him like this. Nico hadn’t even _showered._ What if –

A warm hand in his hair brought all of Nico’s semi-coherent thought processes to a screeching halt. An embarrassing, almost needy sound escaped Nico, and he pressed his lips into a thin line to prevent any more from leaving his mouth without his permission. Will laughed again, and Nico found himself relaxing slowly.

“How did you know?” Nico asked quietly after a while.

“You’ve been off all week,” Will hummed softly, “and you haven’t replied to me all day, even when I tried to call. I was worried, so I came to check on you.”

The sentiment was sweet, and Nico appreciated that Will cared enough to walk all the way to Nico’s house just to check on him. And yet, guilt still came crashing down on Nico in a painful, sickening rush. Despite everything he had done to try to avoid making Will worry, it had happened anyway, and Nico hated himself even more for it.

“Hey,” Will murmured. “You got all quiet again. Is everything okay?”

“No,” Nico replied honestly.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Will asked without even missing a beat.

Nico considered for a moment, then rolled over and tugged lightly at Will’s sleeve. “C’mere, Solace.”

Will laid down happily beside Nico. After a couple seconds of shuffling and wrestling with the blankets, Nico was comfortably curled against Will with his forehead pressed lightly against Will’s shoulder and one of Will’s arms curled loosely around Nico’s waist. Nico hadn’t realized how much he had needed this. He knew he was touch-starved – it was kind of hard to miss – but he hadn’t quite realized how much of an affect it had on him until he was faced with actual physical affection. It was a little embarrassing that he practically melted every time he was jugged or Will ran his fingers through Nico’s hair, but Nico had a hard time caring. It was nice, even if it could only ever last for a little while at a time.

Nico was glad Will didn’t ask what was wrong, because Nico wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to have that conversation. He didn’t really want to think about anything but the gentle, steady sound of Will’s heartbeat and the arc of Will’s thumb over his hip. The silence was soft and gentle, much like Will’s fingers against Nico’s scalp. Nico still felt like shit, but he thought that maybe it was better to feel like shit with someone else beside him than it was to feel like shit all by himself. Nico hadn’t realized how big a part loneliness played in his bad mood during his depressive episodes.

“What time is it?” Nico inquired after a few more minutes.

“Almost two,” Will murmured in response.

Nico sighed and pushed his face further into the crook of Will’s neck. He hated himself for wasting so many hours in bed wallowing in his teenage angst bullshit. He was supposed to be past this. He was supposed to be _better_ by now.

“Look at me, Sunshine,” Will said, gently tapping Nico’s hip with his thumb.

Nico complied silently, moving to press his face lightly against Will’s. Will smiled and slid the hand in Nico’s hair to cup the back of his neck. Leaning into the touch, Nico smiled weakly.

“I’m sorry you’ve been having a rough week,” Will breathed, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Nico shrugged as best he could while lying on his side. “It’ isn’t your fault,” he murmured back.

“I’m still sorry that you’re hurting,” Will hummed sweetly. “Is it a crime for me to be worried about my boyfriend?”

Nico blinked, his heart imploding in his chest. That was the first time either of them had said the B word out loud, and Nico was wholly unprepared to hear it, especially in this context. Wide-eyed, Nico met Will’s unsure gaze in shock.

“Was that okay?” Will asked, tripping a little over his words. “I didn’t mean to say that out of nowhere; it just sort of came out and –”

Nico smiled Will with a kiss. “It’s okay,” he murmured against Will’s lips. “I liked it.”

It was entirely possible that Nico would happily throw himself into an active volcano if he got to see that blinding smile on Will’s face again. Will leaned in and kissed Nico again, still beaming. Nico closed his eyes and let himself melt  into the feeling, content and safe and oblivious to anything and anyone that wasn’t the beautiful boy currently kissing him senseless. He was so absorbed in Will that he missed the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs and the knock that sounded on his door. He only noticed when Hazel’s sweet, chipper voice rang through the room.

“Since I know you haven’t eaten all day, I brought –”

She stopped, blinking in confusion at the scene in front of her. Nico ‘s heart kicked itself into a panicked gallop. It was too late to push Will away or pretend he and Nico hadn’t been kissing just moments before. There was a _reason_ Nico hadn’t come out to his family. His father and Persephone weren’t the easiest or most welcoming people to talk to, for one thing, and Hazel was sort of a wild card, for another. She wasn’t openly homophobic or anything, but Nico knew that her mother had been one of those old-fashioned Catholics who didn’t understand that the world was changing and that constantly spewing her ancient, hateful rhetoric wasn’t okay anymore, then whined on Facebook when someone called her out on her bullshit. Nico wasn’t sure how much that woman had shared her opinions with her daughter, so he wasn’t sure if Hazel thought the same as her mother had, either.

The plate Hazel had been holding fell to the ground and shattered. Nico flinched. Will held Nico a little tighter, his grip protective and wary. Nico wanted to lean into Will, to curl up in his arms and never move again, but Hazel had spun on her heel and left and _oh, God, what if she tells Dad, or Persephone, or –_

Will’s hands were cupped around Nico’s cheeks and Will was murmuring something that was probably an attempt at being soothing. Nico couldn’t hear any of it over the buzzing in his ears. Hazel _knew._ She knew and she would probably tell everyone and Nico would end up being one of those depressing stories about disowned gay kids that were put online and then forgotten about two hours later.

Nico didn’t realize he was shaking until Will reached out and set a steadying hand on Nico’s back. His breath was shuddering in his lungs, which made it difficult to breathe properly. Panic attack, Nico’s brain supplied unhelpfully. Knowing what was going on didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Vaguely, Nico registered that Will was rubbing his thumbs in gentle circles over the pulse points at Nico’s wrists. Nico did his best to focus in on that sensation instead of the clamour in his head, trying to sync his breathes to the timing of the circles. Breathe in. Two circles. Breathe out. Four circles. Breathe in. Repeat.

Nico didn’t know how long his panic attack lasted, but from what he knew about them in general, it had been a relatively short one. Even so, he was exhausted. Suddenly he had a lot more respect for people who had panic attacks on a regular basis. That shit was _awful._

“Are you okay, Sunshine?” Will sounded concerned. Will understood that he couldn’t have hoped to control what had just happened, but he still felt awful for having caused the fear in Will’s voice. Just another thing to add to the ever-growing list of reasons for Nico to hate himself, he supposed.

“No,” Nico replied hoarsely. He wasn’t even close to okay.

Will nodded as if  he had expected that answer. He probably had. Most people probably weren’t okay after panic attacks. “IS there anything I can do to help?”

Nico looked away. The plate had shattered when Hazel had dropped it, and shards of it were scattered across the floor, along with pieces of the sandwich that had been on it. Nico swallowed guiltily.

“I should probably go talk to Hazel,” Nico breathed. It wasn’t an answer to Will’s question, Nico knew, but he didn’t really have one of those, so this would have to do instead.

Following Nico’s gaze, Will nodded again. “You should go talk to her,” he murmured sweetly, “and I’ll clean up. Is that okay?”

Nico smiled gratefully; Will replied by kissing Nico lightly on the cheek. They both stood. Nico picked his way around the mess and made his way out into the hall while Will crouched to pick up the larger pieces of the plate. Hazel wasn’t in the hallway, which sent a fresh bolt of fear down Nico’s spine. He took a deep breath and shoved it away. He couldn’t afford to have another panic attack right now.

Tentatively, Will crossed the hall and approached Hazel’s room. The door was shut, but Nico could hear his sister’s frustrated pacing perfectly clearly. He bit his lip and knocked, hoping he wasn’t about to get yelled at or hit over the head with a Bible or a cross or something. Hazel audibly stomped over to the door and flung it open. Nico flinched when it slammed against the wall hard enough that it sounded like it left a dent.

“If the next thing out of your mouth isn’t an explanation, I’m going to lose my shit,” Hazel hissed, hands on her hips.

Nico took an instinctive step backward. He had never seen her this angry, and it was honestly kind of terrifying. “I – Hazel, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes flashed. “Still not an explanation, Nico. Why the hell didn’t you fucking tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Nico blinked, stunned. “Wait. _That’s_ why you’re angry at me? Not knowing that I was dating?”

 _“Yes!”_ Hazel cried, throwing her hands up in exaggeration. “What else would I be angry about?”

“Maybe the fact that it’s a _guy_ I’m dating?”

“Oh, please,” Hazel scoffed dismissively. “I’ve known you were gay for years”

 _“Excuse_ me?”

“You have never once stared at even the most attractive of girls like you wanted to get into her pants. Every other heterosexual male I have met _has,_ at least once in their life.”

Nico hadn’t ever thought about it that way. He hadn’t realized that his sexuality had manifested itself in little things like that. The idea that people could tell he wasn’t straight without him actually having to say it had never occurred to him. Anxiety seized him, sudden and suffocating. Had any of the others figured it out? If Hazel had noticed, it wasn’t too far a stretch to think that maybe someone else had, too. Leo, maybe; he had always been more observant than he acted. Or Annabeth. She was insanely smart. Maybe even Percy had seen it. Some of his panic must have shown in Nico’s expression, because Hazel’s softened and she set her hand on his arm.

“I don’t think anyone else knows, if that’s what you look so stressed out about,” she reassured. “And I won’t tell them, either, if you don’t want me to. I only figured it out because you’re my brother and I can read you like a book.”

“Yikes,” Nico commented in a mild voice, though relief was crashing down on him with enough force to make his knees turn to rubber and make it difficult to stand.

“Yeah,” Hazel agreed, grinning impishly. “Your brain is a bit too weird for my puny mortal eyes.”

Nico choked out a laugh and pulled Hazel into a hug. She made a squeaky noise of surprise, then huffed a laugh and returned the hug tightly.

“Are we good, then?” Nico murmured into her shoulder. She was nearly a full year younger than him and they were the same height. The worst part was that she was probably going to grow more, and he wasn’t, much to Nico’s annoyance. He hated being so damn short.

“Yeah,” she mumbled back. “I’m still annoyed that you didn’t tell me about him, though.”

“Would it make you feel better if I made you breakfast tomorrow? I’ll even cook waffles.”

“Yes,” Hazel said, pulling away from Nico with a nod. “But you have to invite your boyfriend over, too. I want to make sure he’s not a dick.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “It’s Will, Hazel. You know he isn’t a dick.”

“First impressions are sometimes faulty, and I’ve only talked to him twice,” she replied primly. “And now I have homework to do, so why don’t you go back to whatever it was you were doing and let me suffer in peace?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me that, you ass. I’m not nearly old enough to be a ma’am.”

“Right, sorry. I forgot; that’s for Persephone.”

Hazel cackled. She shut her door, though her snivkering was still audivle through it. Nico smiled. If there was one thing that would never fail to make her laugh, it was insulting Persephone. They had bonded over their dislike of Persephone for years; that was what had brought them so close together in the first place, aside from proximity, despite the fact that Nico was still grieving for Bianca and Hazel was still hurting because of the death of her mother.

Nico turned and made his way back down the hall. He felt better than he had since the conversation from hell with his father on Monday. His chest still felt heavy and hollow, sure, but his loneliness and some of his self-hatred had eased, which made the rest of his depression a little bit easier to bear. He peered into his bedroom and then glanced around when he didn’t find Will there. The light in the bathroom was on and the door was wide open, so Nico moved down the hall to check there. He found Will dusting his hands off over the trash can that he had dumped the plate shards and the remnants of the sandwich in. Nico tapped lightly on the open door and Will straightened, turning to Nico with a smile.

“Did you sort things out with your sister?” he asked sweetly, padding over to Nico and taking his hand.

Nico nodded. “Yeah,” he hummed, giving Will’s hand a squeeze. “Apparently she was pissed that I didn’t tell her you and I were dating, not because I didn’t tell her I’m not straight.”

Will cocked his head to the side curiously. “I thought you weren’t out to your family yet?”

“I’m not,” Nico replied with a shake of his head. “She figured it out on her own and then never told me that she knew.”

Will laughed. “That’s one hell of a miscommunication right there.”

“Tell me about it,” Nico giggled.

“I’m glad things worked out, though.

“Me too.”

Nico smiled. Whatever he had done to deserve Will was one of the few things Nico absolutely didn’t regret. He leaned into Will’s side and smiled quietly to himself.

“Hazel says you should come over tomorrow for breakfast,” Nico said after a minute or two. “I’m making waffles, apparently.”

“Sounds great,” Will laughed. “How about I just stay overnight, though? It would be easier for us both that way.”

Nico smiled and leaned his head lightly against Will’s shoulder. “That’s fine by me. Are you sure Laila will be okay without her precious big brother being home to entertain her for that long?”

“Laila will get over herself because I will give her chocolate and she’ll forget all about it,” Wil replied smugly, a self-satisfied grin settling itself on his face.

“I’m fairly certain that bribery is morally fucked up,” Nico said, snickering a little to himself.

“Not if the person being bribed is an obnoxious four-year-old who refuses to leave her extremely tired older brother alone for ten minutes and the person doing the bribing is the previously mentioned extremely tired older brother.”

“All right, fair enough,” Nico replied with a badly-concealed cackle.

“Was Hazel serious when she said you haven’t eaten all day?” Will asked after a beat.

Nico sighed. “Yeah. I should probably fix that, huh? Without the panic attack this time, though.”

“You definitely should.” Will’s tone was stern, but he was still smiling.

Nico laughed under his breath and laced his fingers with Will’s, then tugged him down the stairs and into the kitchen. Will leaned against a wall and chattered on aimlessly as Nico pulled a pox of pasta from the pantry, then set the pot of water on the stove to boil. Nico smiled down at the pot and smiled to himself as Wil talked. _This is what contentment is like,_ Nico thought, tucking the moment away to protect it and save it for when he felt awful later. He had a stash of happy moments like this filed away, though they tended to lose potency over time. This one would probably last him a while, though. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so warm and content and safe.

When Will went abruptly silent in the  middle of telling a story about the time he, his siblings, Cecil, and Lou Ellen had tried and failed miserably for months to pull a prank on his dad, Nico turned around, eyebrows furrowed worriedly. His blood went cold. Nico’s father was standing in the doorway, face as stony and impassive as always. He looked pissed off, but Nico couldn’t tell if that was just his resting face or if he was actually angry.

“Dad,” Nico said, surprised. Déjà vu slapped him sharply upside the head. This had been the same way the last conversation had started. Hopefully that wasn’t an indication of how _this_ conversation would go. Nico could only hope today wouldn’t end up like Monday had. He didn’t think he could handle that twice in one week.

“I didn’t know we had guests, Nico,” Nico’s father said pointedly, barely sparing Will a glance.

Will looked like he was trying to shrink into a corner and camouflage himself into the wall. He tensed a little beside Nico. It was surprisingly hard for Nico to keep himself from reaching over and taking Will’s hand in response.

“This is Will,” Nico replied stiffly. “He’s a friend from school. Were you looking for me?”

The word friend was bitter on Nico’s tongue, but his father didn’t seem to notice that anything was off, because he just nodded.

“I see. And yes, I was looking for you.  We need to talk, Nico.”

As always, those words made Nico want to fling himself directly into the sun or hide in the attic so he wouldn’t have to talk to his father.

“About what?” He was glad that his nervousness wasn’t audible. Nico was borderline terrified of this conversation, but his father certainly didn’t need to know that.

Nico’s father flicked his eyes meaningfully over to Will. Nico clenched his jaw and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. For once, Nico could get bad news in the kitchen instead of his father’s fucking office. He arched his eyebrows pointedly at his father. Damien sighed in defeat and shook his head.

“I just wanted to let you know that I decided against what we discussed on Monday,” he said stiffly, shooting another wary glance at Will. Nico wanted to roll his eyes. God forbid anyone know that Nico was mentally ill and needed therapy.

Nico straightened, eyes wide. “Wait, seriously?”

Damien nodded, then turned and left without another word. This time Nico did roll his eyes. His father might be a world-famous lawyer, but he had no idea how to act around his kids’ friends. He was like this when Hazel had friends over, too. It was almost funny, sometimes. Nico smiled a little to himself, relieved, and turned back to the stove. He felt like an anvil had been lifted off his chest.

“What was that about?” Will asked tentatively after a moment of confused silence.

Nico shrugged and dumped the pasta into the water, then tossed the box into the bin on the other side of the room. “He was going to pull me out of therapy,” Nico admitted softly. “I guess he decided not to.”

Will came up behind Nico and wrapped his arms around Nico’s waist. “Well, that’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah,” Nico hummed, leaning back into Will.

And it was. Nico could feel his depressed mood ebbing slowly away, and he knew it would only get better from here. Hazel was okay with him and Will, so maybe the other people Will card about would be, too. For once, almost all the outcomes that  Nico could think of for the foreseeable future were positive.

Later that evening, Nico went up the attic and began another painting of irises in between kissing Will senseless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said this would be six chapters originally but change of plans! this is the end akljfssk thank you guys for reading this and leaving all those sweet comments <3


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